Dark Heart Rising Part 18

'Keep calm.' Soren kept his hand on mine. 'You're getting paranoid.'

'I wonder why ...' I looked furtively around me. We were hemmed in now, cl.u.s.ters of well, I didn't know what they were. Vampires? Witches? Werewolves?

'I'm seriously beginning to think this was a bad idea,' I muttered. 'What was I thinking?'

'You were thinking that you hadn't given up yet.' Soren leaned in to talk into my ear. 'You get the merest hint of a sign from Luca that he still feels that bond with you and you're willing to go back on your refusal to come back here ... That was what you were thinking.'

'OK.' I sighed. 'The truth is I am nervous ... I don't want to find Luca and realise it meant nothing after all.'

'Trust in your power,' said Soren, sounding very much like Vanya. 'Look we're approaching the palace. See the gates?'

I peered through the witches in front of us. The palace was fronted by a large torch like an Olympic torch which blazed impressively in front of the main gate. Either side stood lines of people dressed in pale yellow military-like uniforms. Men and women of all ages, standing perfectly still, arms poker-straight by their sides.

'Impressive,' I said, taking in four riders on horses at the far ends of each line. I squinted and my heart leaped into my throat.

'He's there.' I nudged Soren, who followed my gaze.

'He's part of the parade,' I said, my heart sinking back to its regular position. 'It's hopeless.'

'There must be some kind of communal banquet afterwards there usually is at these events,' Soren said, still staring over at the horses. 'I imagine Luca will be attending that.' He turned to look at me. 'Don't look so anxious, you're a very convincing vampire.'

'Kind of what I'm worried about,' I said, wis.h.i.+ng more than ever I could see just how ridiculous I looked.

'Come.' Soren took hold of my hand, pulling me with him through the crowds. In the tight suede boots Vanya had insisted I wear my legs felt constricted. They laced all the way up over my knees. I winced.

'Bring me my sneakers,' I murmured.

'Rubbish, you look rather ... s.e.xy,' Soren pulled me faster, giving me no time to dwell on the flush that crept over my face.

Eventually he stopped and I realised we were right at the front of the throng looking at the people in yellow and right in the eyeline of the boys on horseback. A flash of blond hair stood out. Raphael, sitting erect and somewhat haughty-looking, to our right. His eyes seemed to be trained on some point in the distance behind us.

I couldn't quite make out the rest of the hors.e.m.e.n, and allowed my gaze to roam to the left, half dreading, half hoping that I would meet Luca's eyes head on. But the rest of the boys were staring straight ahead too. If it hadn't been for his still floppy brown hair and delicately boned face, I would not have recognised him.

But then, just for the briefest second, I saw his head drop and almost imperceptibly, his eyes catch hold of mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Inwardly, Raphael's mind was whirring and, though the crowds were there in front of him, cheering, happy to be part of this seasonal event, he barely registered them. At any moment, the bugle would sound, and he would take his position in front of the Celestial military. His grandparents were making their way to the balcony, too fragile today to face the people at close proximity. A bubble of anger coursed up through him. All this ridiculous pomp and ceremony. And he, who had been lied to for years, was representing the great and honourable Celestial family.

He cleared his throat, glancing over to the left, where the most skilled riders in this part of Nissilum sat astride their horses, patiently. He allowed a longer glance at Luca, whose handsome face looked sad. The Luca Raphael had known as a boy had been calm and smiling, and it had always irritated him. He realised now he had been envious. Still was.

But lately the wolf-boy seemed to have ... paled. He was sombre. Unhappy.

Beyond Luca was Lowe. An insouciant look on his face. Now there was a fool. So caught up in machismo, patriotism, that he was blinded to the point.

The point that Nissilum was little better than a prison. More oppressive than the tiny bas.e.m.e.nt room in which Raphael had spent the months after his father's death, half mad with grief, and confusion.

She let me believe, he thought, another surge of anger hitting him.

The bugle sounded, and Raphael moved to stand ahead. His heavy military coat felt hot, suffocating. Symbolic of his life.

He entertained a fantasy in which he drew out the pistol from its holder on his thigh and shot into the crowd, then watched the crowd scatter and panic. As he smiled at the faces in front of him, he imagined the unrest, the frightened horses, the confusion on the faces of all those who trusted in this great majestic family.

The time will come, he thought, his eye falling suddenly on a familiar face at the front of the a.s.sembled throng. He nodded, wondering where he had seen her before. There was something about the eyes, exotically made-up ... She was beautiful indeed; one of Vanya Borgia's cohorts, no doubt ... The girl seemed uneasy with his attention and simply dropped her head, coyly. That's when he realised.

She was no vampire. She was the mortal girl. She was Jane. And next to her, with a face that looked both too old for his years and youthfully handsome at the same time, was the boy she'd been with the other day.

Remembering, Raphael smiled broadly for the first time.

He didn't know why, but this Soren character seemed charged with the same contempt for this place as did Raphael. He had known it the first time he'd met him and then again when he'd come knocking on Vanya's door to find him.

With the discovery that his father may not be dead after all, the stranger and who he could possibly be had faded a little from his thoughts, but seeing him standing there with Jane, Raphael recalled the book in the library and what he had read. He couldn't prove it but something told him that this boy man was connected to this story.

A shout from behind him told Raphael that it was time to begin the procession. He turned to signal to the others that they must follow him.

As the horses trod elegantly towards the crowd, it parted respectfully to let them pa.s.s. Leading the way, Raphael was careful not to make eye contact not until he pa.s.sed the two of them. He saw Soren's hand reach out subtly to take Jane's.

Raphael dropped his gaze until he had her attention. Her dark eyes regarding him warily.

'h.e.l.lo, Jane.' He mouthed the words, saw her lips part, confused, and lifted his head back as though he had not seen her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

'He saw me ...' I looked up at Soren. 'Raphael recognised me.'

Soren frowned. 'You know him a born troublemaker. He will forget about it soon enough.' He smiled unconvincingly.

But my hand, still holding his, was trembling a little. My eyes focussed on the boy astride the black horse next to us.

'Don't,' Soren said, as loud as he dared, but Luca had not seen them. I released my hand from his and instead reached out quickly to touch the horse's flank, my head bent, hiding my face.

'Careful,' said Luca, not knowing me. Soren watched me look up at him.

'Jane ...' Soren pulled me back, stopping me from revealing myself at this moment. And to his obvious relief I allowed myself to be pulled.

But though Luca continued, directing his horse through the throng, he suddenly stopped, and we both saw him turn, looking back curiously at me before the crowd began chanting, encouraging him forward and on with the procession, forcing him to turn away.

The rest of the people followed the horses, leaving Soren and I standing on the periphery.

'That was close,' breathed Soren. 'You should have kept your head down.'

'How will I ever get near him, talk to him?' My shoulders slumped.

'I told you, there will be time.' Soren dodged a couple of small boys. 'But really, you must learn not to wear every feeling on your face!'

'I can't help that.'

'Personally, I think it's charming.' He smiled. 'But this is a game you are playing. And a game involves strategy. Ergo, you need to be more strategic.'

'Like a game of chess? I never was any good at board games.'

He laughed then, slipping an arm around me.

'Well, thank goodness you have me here to teach you.'

I relaxed. He could feel a little tension easing.

'Now,' he told me cheerfully, 'shall we try and have a little fun? I think I see Vanya and Valdar over there.'

'Not them,' I shook my head. 'Vanya has this way of...'

'Twisting things?' He grinned. 'At seducing you into doing things you would rather not do?'

'Exactly.'

'I know you don't trust her, but really, she is a good ally to have.'

'Hmm. And a dangerous enemy.' I crossed my arms over my chest.

'Listen, Jane. The truth is, you should never trust anyone but yourself ... Not completely. The trick is to exploit the qualities you find in others take from them what you need.'

'Well, that's not cynical at all ...' I gave him a playful shove. 'You have this way of making the most obnoxious traits sound worthwhile.'

'And you have a way of turning every minor problem into a disaster.' He arched an eyebrow. 'Of doubting everyone and yourself most of all.'

'OK, Dr Freud.' I rolled my eyes. 'Shall we dispense with the amateur psychology and follow the procession?'

Soren crooked his arm, gesturing for me to take it.

'I thought you would never ask.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

'A good crowd today.' Raphael dismounted as he addressed Luca. 'Some interesting faces out there.'

Luca nodded, though he did not look at him, concentrating instead on lifting the heavy saddle off his horse.

'You didn't notice?' Raphael probed. 'You didn't see them?'

The tic in Luca's cheek betrayed his tension, but he still did not engage with Raphael. He carried the saddle over to its place at the back of the stable, taking his time. Finally he walked back over to his horse, brus.h.i.+ng his hands on trousers.

'What's the matter?' Raphael stood perfectly still. 'Are you nervous about the wedding?' His tone was subtly mocking.

Luca sighed, resting his palms on his horse's flank, then leaning his forehead against it.

'Not nervous,' he said, though he didn't move, still did not look at Raphael. 'Just ...'

Raphael pretended not to understand. 'You are unwell?'

'No!' snapped Luca. 'I am not unwell. I am simply haunted by something I cannot have.'

'By "something" you mean Jane?' Raphael spoke softly.

'Yes.' And Raphael saw that the boy's eyes were wet with tears.

'Luca,' he said, unprepared, 'I didn't mean ...'

'Of course you did. You meant to be provocative. You always have. Even when we were young.' Luca faced him. 'And I never reacted. You were the beloved prince. Beyond reproach. It was meant to be an honour to be your playmate.' Luca's tone was low and he was as angry as Raphael had ever seen him.

'I ... I was only playing,' Raphael said. 'You knew that, I hope.'

'As you are playing now, I suppose? Playing with other people's lives. As you played with Jane ...'

'I'm not ... it is not ...' began Raphael. 'I mean no harm to you, or to Jane. But, don't you see? This whole mess is symbolic of this wretched place. You are about to marry someone you do not love, you barely know. Allowing your parents to control your happiness to destroy it.'

Luca said nothing for a few seconds, then sighed heavily.

'There is nothing I can do or will do to stop this. I owe my parents this.' Luca spoke eventually. 'They would be devastated.'

Raphael snorted, he couldn't help himself.

'You don't understand. I can make a good life with Lila. She is a sweet girl a little naive, but adorable. She just wants to make me happy, fetching me small gifts, making sure I am all right ...' he trailed off.

'She sounds ... a little dull,' said Raphael. 'If you will excuse my directness.'

Luca smiled for the first time, but wryly. 'Since when have you ever cared for others' opinions or their feelings?'

'That's not fair ...' Raphael remembered his father with a pang.

'I know you are still angry,' Luca said, 'about your father ...'