The Golden Dynasty(112)

But how did I get here?

And who was the Circe (or whoever) who was on a pirate ship?

I needed answers but I didn’t know how to go about finding them and I wasn’t sure I wanted them. The knowledge might be more frightening than the reality.

That said, Diandra had said something I hadn’t paid attention to at the time because I felt crap, was shaking uncontrollably and Lahn was extremely pissed, so I had other things on my mind, but when I had sunstroke, she told me the medicine was natural, not “witchcraft”.

If you could hear animals in this world (and Ghost spoke to me, she was a baby, she didn’t have a lot of words and all of them were Korwahk so I didn’t know what she was saying half the time, but I still understood her mews and purrs and growls like human language), if horses could be so white they shone ice blue, if innocent women could go to bed in Seattle and be transported to an alternate universe – then there could be magic.

And perhaps someone here practiced it.

And perhaps that someone knew what the f**k was going on with me.

And, if I knew what that was, then maybe I could figure out what I should do.

“Dahksahna Circe,” Bain muttered and I belatedly noticed that he’d tensed at my side.

I came to myself, looked up at him then looked where his eyes were aimed.

The Eunuch was headed our way and his eyes were on me.

“Tee lapay lee Xacme,”* Bain said under his breath to me.

I looked back up at Bain and before he rearranged his features, I saw distaste in them.

Oh man.

“Kah Dahksahna,” The Eunuch murmured, bowing his head as he stopped before me.

Hmm. He called me “kah Dahksahna”. Most everyone called me “rahna Dahksahna” or “rahna Dahksahna hahla” or “Dahksahna Circe” if they knew me pretty well.

No one simply called me their queen.

How weird.

“Poyah,” I greeted and his head came up, his face masked.

Oh man.

“I am The Eunuch,” he stated and I blinked.

“You know Eng… I mean, Valearian?” I asked.

“I speak the language of the Vale,” he answered, lifting his chin a bit.

He spoke English. Very weird. Why didn’t Lahn use this guy as an interpreter?

“Well, um… cool, uh, that’s great, I mean. Lovely to, uh… finally meet you,” I stammered. “Uh, what’s your name?”

He stared at me. Then he repeated, “I am The Eunuch.”

“Uh… okay, I’ve um… heard that but…” Yikes! “I was asking your name.”

“My name?” he asked back.

“Yes, the one you were given at birth,” I told him.

His face, already masked, closed down.