The roar of sound coming from behind the blood-red doors was always the same. Just because the Prince had chosen to dine alone in his chambers this evening didn't mean his nobles weren't enjoying themselves as usual. However, their daughters were looking a bit wilted where they sat at their long table. After reigning for nearly twenty years, Visioncrest's lord was still without a wife, and this fact had dishonored more than one generation of maidens. It had become the Keep's unsung battle, one every nobly born girl joined the moment she began to bleed--to win the Prince's heart.
Mirabel dearly wished there was some other route to the Prince's chamber that didn't take her through the Great Hall, but from the bowels of the Keep, where she lived and worked, there was no other way to ascend into his presence. Even though she kept to the shadows at the edges of the vast room, and followed a flock of serving girls in, the royal colors she wore were inevitably noticed. Everyone knew the Prince never ate alone; they were always busy scanning the Hall trying to determine who he had honored with a private invitation that evening. From the women's high seat, the sudden rush of attention was cold as an avalanche pressing against Mirabel's chest, but she was perfectly safe; no one would speak to her or approach her. They were all comfortably rooted in their cushioned benches like large plants possessed of the power of speech, and her straight-backed dignity as she walked was a knife cutting straight through their thorny dislike.
Mirabel passed quickly through the second set of double doors. They were pulled open for her by two young men of the Brown who stared at her with nothing worse than appreciative curiosity. The corridor beyond was wide and eternally dark despite all the oil lamps burning in recessed niches every few paces. The walls, the ceiling and the floor were all made of the black stone she loved so much because of the way it reflected light on its polished surface even while drowning it in its depths. The spirits of the living flames followed her down the long hallway, her leather sandals making an intimate whispering sound in the silence enhanced by the noise of the Great Hall as she gradually left it far behind. She knew the Keep's dark stone had been excavated in the surrounding mountains, and that its six towers had consumed it all; it was said there was none left, but as far as Mirabel was concerned there had been just enough, for Visioncrest itself was more awe-inspiring to her than the natural materials from which it was made.
She encountered only more young men of the Brown at the corridor's end. Six of them were lounging on the rim of a fountain that adorned the center of the circular space, the curving wall broken by six narrow archways leading up into the noble towers.
"Good evening!' they all greeted her at once, yet they remained placidly seated on the fountain's rim, leaning back on their arms or resting them comfortably on their bent knees.
"Good evening,' she responded shyly, avoiding their eyes.
"Well, do you think our Prince will ever marry?' One of them asked his companions.
The casual question felt like a knife thrust into her back as she walked around them. She braced herself for the cruel twist as she quickly made her way to the central arch.
"What, and spoil his pleasures? Why should he?'
Laughter propelled her up the stairwell. It was steep and dark and a cold draft inevitably blew out some of the oil lamps that flickered at every landing. It was a long, winding way to the top where the Prince lived alone, and it gave her too much time to think. Megran's assistants had long preceded her, and she had waited until they returned from delivering their lord's meal (which tonight would also be hers) before making her way to his rooms.
Her heart was pounding in her breast when she finally reached the final landing, and not only from the physical exertion of the climb. She paused to rest for a moment, and to enjoy the beauty of the Prince's bedroom doors. The polished golden wood was divided up into sixteen panels composed of a slightly darker grain, and each was painted with exquisitely detailed flowers, all of which Mirabel was proud to recognize. The doors were set deep into the black stone and bordered by what she had at first believed to be a living vine, until closer inspection, and Megran's lessons, revealed that the leaves and blossoms shone as if wet with dew because they were carved from precious and semi-precious stones.
The narrow stairwell was the only way up to the Prince's quarters; there was no need for him to post more guards at his door. He had told her time and time again not to bother knocking when he was expecting her, but it was still difficult for her to casually grasp the gilded handle and let herself in.
"Welcome, Mirabel.' He turned towards her holding a slender black bottle in one hand. 'There's nothing like a hard day of sacred rites to give a man an appetite.' He arched an eyebrow at her. 'Not to mention saving innocent virgins from lusty merchants.' He held up the sinister looking bottle. 'I've been saving this for a very long time, a prize vintage from Starpoint.' His eyes were the dark silver of the horizon just before a storm, and she experienced strange hot flashes of sensation in her belly whenever she was the subject of his scrutiny.
"I am honored, my lord,' was all she could think to say.
"Wouldn't you like to know my first name, Mirabel? You've never asked.'
"No,' she replied quickly.
He set the wine bottle down on a low table without taking his eyes off her. 'And why is that?'
"Because I ... because I like you the way you are now, my lord.'
He was so still his arms resembled carved marble in the lamplight as he said quietly, 'So that's how it is with you.'
"I don't understand...' The black floor was the frozen surface of a lake on a moonless night, and she had already slipped by saying the wrong thing. 'I'm sorry, my lord, I would like to know your name.'
"Liar.' He smiled again. 'Come, let's eat.'
Dinner was laid out on two knee-high silver tables curved like crescent moons joined at one end, a twilight river of pale blue and green cushions swelling between them.
"I'm sure there are many things you're dying to ask me, Mirabel, and tonight you may. I promise, I will give you no more quizzes on life in the Kingdom. You've learned your lessons like a good girl. Come here.' He sat back on the cushions wearing only tight black leather pants and boots.
"There's only one thing I wish to ask you, my lord.' She started towards him slowly, afraid of his reaction.
"It must be some question.' His eyes moved from her face to her breasts and from there traveled down to her hips as if tumbling down a hill, a hint of that strange anger she had seen in Darmond's expression sharpening his features. 'Well?' He looked up into her eyes again.
She knelt before him on the floor, too shy to share the cushions with him yet. 'Will you help me ... will you help me explore myself, my lord?'
He sat up and took her face in his hands. 'That's what I've been trying to do,' he said very seriously.
"Yes, I know, but...' She felt herself falling into the slate-gray depths of his stare; so close to him, she was unable to hold onto her thoughts, much less the words needed to express them.
"What?' he whispered urgently as his hands slipped gently down around her neck.
"Oh, yes, my lord, like that...' She had to close her eyes she was so relieved he understood.
"Sit beside me,' he commanded.
She quickly stood up and sank to her knees on the cushions.
He reached for a bronze goblet. 'I would love to help you explore yourself in that sense, Mirabel,' he poured a dark-red wine into his glass, 'but your father might not like it.'
"You know my father?' Somehow she wasn't surprised, only hurt that he had not mentioned it before.
"I don't know him personally, no.' He sipped the vintage he had been saving for so long.
"But you believe in him?'
"Oh, yes.'
"I would like some wine, please.' Infinitely excited, she snatched up her own heavy chalice. 'Why do you look so sad, my lord?'
He poured the wine for her. 'I am sad, Mirabel, because the two worlds can never be one.'
"But why?'
"Because it's not possible.'
"Nothing is impossible.' She couldn't believe she had to tell this to the Master of Visioncrest. 'He took my mother away with him.'
He smiled for an instant, then sampled one of the half-dozen gourmet dishes Megran had prepared for them. 'Our life here, this whole world, is only a dream, Mirabel. How do you like that?'
Her lips parted in wonder at this revelation.
He gently shoved a morsel of spiced lamb between them.
She looked away from him while she chewed. 'It's delicious,' she murmured.
"What your father did was considered such a grave crime because it was inconceivable, a term which quite literally applies to you. He made love to his creation, and lo-and-behold, you were born.' Gently, he thrust a pearly baby onion into her mouth, then he soaked some of the lamb's juices up in a cloudy mass of bread and fed her that as well.
She finished her wine. 'May I have some more, please?'
"Of course.' He refilled her glass, and then drained the bottle into his own. 'It goes so quickly,' he observed wistfully. 'But where was I? Oh, yes ... let me see if I can put this in a way you'll understand. You spend most of your time in the gardens, so I'll tell you that we are the thought-seeds of the Lords' spirits; our beautiful Kingdom was sown by them. Traveling between the stars they came upon this world and discovered that their ideas and feelings interacted with its energies just as seeds do with soil and they set about conceiving an ideal realm. Their beliefs founded the Nine Keeps and their desires gave birth to us.'
"We are the Lord's plants?' She could barely contain her joy at the concept.
He laughed, then abruptly gripped her chin in one hand to stare intently down into her eyes. 'You like that idea?'
"Yes, my lord!'
"It doesn't bother you that our flesh is as fragile and evanescent as a flower's petals?'
She was falling helplessly up into his eyes again; she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying...
"You don't mind that from the Lords' point of view we're not real, not as they are?'
"But my father took my mother--'
"Yes, he entered his creation, for which he was punished. But you tell me he came for her again, which means he somehow either raised her to his own level, or he killed her.'
"He would never hurt her!' she exclaimed, tossing her head free of his grasp.
"And yet her powers could never match his own. The range of her being is limited.'
"Why, if you say she came from inside him?'
He didn't reply, instead he turned his attention to Megran's delicious offerings again. 'You're a dream come true, Mirabel, in more ways than one. There's no telling how much of your father is in you and how much of your mother.'
"Father said I was a whole new world in myself and to never forget it. I don't know what it means, but I won't forget it. Do you think he took my mother to one of the stars in the sky?'
"I don't know, my love.' He picked up an unrecognizable sugary concoction, but then set it back down on the platter.
"Your love?' she whispered, grasping his arm. 'Do you love me? I don't care what father thinks, I know I'm ready, my lord.' What she was ready for she had no idea, she only knew it involved getting as close to him as possible. She wanted to ask him how he knew all this about her father, but words only felt like weeds growing in their way.
"It's my duty to protect you, Mirabel, and to help you develop in whatever direction your mysterious nature leans.' He took a deep breath as she leaned into him and began hungrily caressing his bare chest. As if he had been resisting the urge for a long time, he suddenly pulled her roughly over onto his lap. He supported her with one arm while his other arm slipped beneath her knees, and when he spoke again, his face was so close to hers his breath warmed her lips. 'Do you know how the Keeps choose their Prince?'
Cradled in his arms she felt so mysteriously at peace she shook her head slightly, incapable of speech.
"We are chosen from the few male children born during a violent darkening of the sky, when thunder and lightning drown out the screams of our mothers.' He kissed her, pressing his mouth hard against hers. 'That's the first sign,' he went on quietly. 'These special babies are carefully watched, but only until their seventh birthday, because if it hasn't happened by then, it never will.'
"If what hasn't happened?' she breathed.
"I was struck when I was two.' He stood up, lifting her in his arms. 'Lightning flashed out of a clear blue sky.'
She buried her face in the side of his neck and closed her eyes. She knew he was carrying her somewhere, and that what was about to happen was akin to what he was describing--some part of him was about to do to her what this heavenly force did to the earth over and over again, sometimes with blinding force.
"One minute I was running happily through the garden followed by my mother's laughter,' he went on as she felt him kneel and lay her across a surface that was deep and soft yet also firm from the floor beneath it. "Then the next thing I remember is being tangled in a thorn bush listening to my mother's screams, which I'm sure were as sharp as only the two-edged sword of love and ambition could make them.'
Mirabel lost him there, but it didn't matter because he was above her, and all around her, and she could grasp him, and everything he meant, blindly.
She was surprised by the pain but she determinedly ignored it and concentrated on the surging rhythm, which she understood with every last drop of her being.
He was not gentle. Straddling her, he ripped open her bodice and then the shirt she wore beneath it, impatiently tugging them off over her head. Her breasts were round and firm and he seemed to find them irresistible as he cupped and squeezed them before bending over to swiftly bite both her stiff nipples.
"My lord!' she gasped.
"What's wrong?' He stared down at her. 'Is it too much for you?' he challenged.
"No!' The intense sensation had been exquisite beyond words.
"Shall I be patient or shall I take you the way I truly want to, Mirabel?' He yanked off the ribbon holding his hair back and let it fall in dark waves around his face.
"Take me the way you want to, my lord!' She reached up to touch him, but he stood up and tugged her skirt off like a gale-force wind stripping the leaves from a tree in a single gust. Her hips heaved off the rug, her legs long white branches falling to earth beneath his black storm cloud. He slowly unwound his belt, and she eagerly sat up to pull down his leggings. She flung them away like a shadow in her blinding impatience to embrace the powerful ray of his naked body, then at last he knelt between her thighs as she lay back across the rug again. Holding her eyes, he firmly gripped the backs of her knees with both hands, pushing them up around him.
)
On a mountainous world divided into nine Castle Keeps, one of the ancient Lords worshiped by the Kingdom crosses a forbidden line and a child is conceived, Mirabel, her body destined to become a mysterious bridge between dimensions.
