Chapter 5 Annani
ANNANI
Amoment before the doorbell rang, Annani set the book that she had not been reading down and rose from her armchair.
She did not need to ask who it was. She knew.
When Kian walked into the living room, the last flicker of hope was extinguished. He looked like a man about to deliver a death sentence.
"What happened?" she asked.
"The booby traps were triggered," he said. "Early morning island time. We were too late."
As Annani's knees threatened to buckle, she lowered herself back into the armchair.
"How do you know?"
He walked over to the couch and sat down.
"We placed the call as planned, and Losham answered.
When Toven commanded him to stop trying to breach the enclosure, he informed us that we were too late.
The irony is that it happened just shortly before we called.
He must have been working on it day and night for days.
The section of the basement with the enclosure collapsed, and Losham said it will take weeks to dig through the rubble. "
"So, we do not know whether anyone survived in those chests?"
The silence that followed was answer enough.
Kian let out a breath. "Toven believes there's a chance, and I agree. Navuh might have designed the traps to appear destructive without actually destroying the contents. A bluff. But we won't know for certain until they dig through the debris."
A chance. There was still hope. The thread was so thin that it might snap in the slightest breeze, but it was better than nothing.
Annani had built her entire existence on threads like that.
"We need to talk to Navuh," she said, the words coming out flat, emotionless despite the storm raging inside of her. "Right now."
Kian nodded. "I agree. Losham said something peculiar. He asked Lokan if Navuh had included him in the global alert to all of his sons, and I wonder what that's about. I intend to ask Navuh about it."
She nodded. "I am ready to leave right now."
"Anandur and Brundar won't be happy about driving to the keep this late in the day," Kian murmured as he pulled out his phone, typed a short text, and sent it.
The return texts came in within seconds, just as Annani had expected.
There were advantages to her status. No one said no to her, not out of fear but out of love and respect.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Ogidu appeared with a light wrap. "Will this suffice, Clan Mother? Or would you like a more substantial outer garment?"
Normally, the pashmina shawl would have been enough, but today, she needed the added warmth of a proper coat. The chill of the evening air would turn into the cold of the night, and she was already chilled to the bone.
"Please bring me the velvet coat."
"Right away.” Ogidu bowed and retreated to get what she had asked for.
Kian observed the exchange with a frown. "Are you ready to face Navuh right now? Perhaps it would be better to wait until you are more collected. He's a master at finding weaknesses and exploiting them. He'll use your pain against you if you allow him in."
"I know who and what Navuh is." Annani let Ogidu drape the velvet coat around her shoulders. "I have had five thousand years of practice hiding my emotions. I think I can handle one manipulative immortal."
Kian knew her well, and he was right about her emotional state being fragile right now. It would have been better to appear at Navuh's room with Morelle and Mia at her side, one to siphon Navuh's vitality and the other to reinforce Annani's ability, but she was not ready for an all-out battle.
Not today.
She was too weak. Too devastated.
The golf cart arrived within minutes, Anandur at the wheel and Brundar a silent shadow beside him.
Tonight, neither of them was smiling.
"Clan Mother." Anandur hopped out to help her into the back seat even though Kian was right there. "Please don't lose hope."
"Never." She patted his arm. "It is not in my nature to give in to despair."
The ride to the glass pavilion was short, silent, and dark. The sky was cloudy, so there was only a little moonlight to navigate by, and the air smelled of rain. Somehow, it was fitting that nature appeared somber on a night like this.
Please send me a sign, Annani beseeched the Fates. Keep my hope alive.
She watched the quiet village they were passing by, admiring the peaceful sanctuary that Kian had built for their people to hide from those bent on their annihilation and to enjoy the illusion of safety.
And it was an illusion because, as Navuh's capture had proven, no place guaranteed security.
Navuh had thought that he was invincible on that island of his, but the Fates had played him.
Navuh loved only one person in this universe, and the Fates tricked him into believing that Areana had fallen to her death.
He had followed his love without thinking, either in a desperate attempt to save her or a wish to join her beyond the veil because he couldn't tolerate life without her.
Were the Fates tricking her now? Once again making her believe that her one true love had perished? Had she not suffered enough?
Annani had already mourned Khiann once, and now the Fates were making her mourn him again. It was not fair to subject her to such cruelty, but then life was not fair, and larger forces were at play than one goddess's love for her mate.
In the grand scheme of things, she was not important.
"Care to share your thoughts?" Kian said as they climbed into the back of his SUV. "I'm not used to you being so quiet. It's disconcerting."
Annani reached for her son's hand and brought it over to her lap.
"The last thing a mother wants is for her son to be worried.
" She sighed. "I was just thinking that I am not really important in the grand scheme of things, and that the Fates are not obligated to give me preferential treatment.
People lose loved ones all of the time. And some even lose them twice when their hopes for miraculous resurrection are crushed. "
"Are your hopes crushed, Mother?"
She let out a breath. "Yes. Not yet entirely destroyed, but severely damaged."
Kian squeezed her hand. "The Fates saved you for a reason.
If not for you, Mortdh's followers would have ruled the entire globe, and life would have been unbearable, especially for women.
You are very important, and you have suffered and fought through the millennia to do good and to elevate humanity according to the gods' vision. You deserve to get your mate back."
"Thank you." She motioned for him to lower his head so she could kiss his cheek. "That was one of the best pep talks I've ever gotten."
It was second only to the prophecy the blind seer had given her.
She had to cling to that promise and believe that it would come true, but it was difficult to remain hopeful at this point.
She should have agreed to Navuh's terms.
The thought surfaced unbidden, sharp and accusatory. If she had simply accepted his bargain and promised him freedom in exchange for Khiann's safe retrieval, none of this would have happened. They would have gotten to Khiann in time.
Instead, she had hesitated. Had tried to find a way that didn't require compromising her principles. And while she deliberated, the booby traps had been sprung, and Khiann might have perished.
The guilt was so overwhelming that she could not take in a deep breath.
But even as she drowned in self-recrimination, another part of her mind pushed back.
Capturing Navuh had never been the plan.
It had been a stroke of luck, an unexpected gift from the Fates.
Before his capture, she had not even had proof that Khiann was still alive.
If she agreed to release Navuh, things would have simply returned to the way they had been before.
Except it might be too late to save Khiann.
If he had survived.
If there was anything left to save.
Annani pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to quiet the thoughts that spun in endless circles.
One moment she was certain she should have accepted Navuh's bargain, and the next she was equally certain that releasing him would have been a catastrophic mistake.
Back and forth, round and round, never settling, never finding peace.
She just wanted Khiann back. That was all. After five thousand years of grief, was that really too much to ask?
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she would not let them fall, and she blinked them away fiercely.
Self-pity was a weakness, and showing weakness was a luxury a leader could not afford. Her people looked up to her, and if she cried in front of them, it would shatter their illusion of safety. She could not allow herself to crumble in public.
Not now, and not ever.
Even crying privately was a luxury she did not allow herself because if she started crying, she might never stop.
When the four of them entered the clinic, Gertrude rose from her chair. "Clan Mother, we weren't expecting you tonight. Doctor Bridget left a couple of hours ago. Should I call her back?"
"There is no need," Annani said. "I am here to have a talk with Navuh."
Gertrude looked uncomfortable. "Lady Areana is with him."
Of course, she was. Areana's devotion to her mate was as admirable as it was questionable. One of the cruelties of the mating bond was that it didn't discriminate between saints and monsters, and Areana had no choice but to stand by her mate's side.
"Just open the door for us," Annani said. "I will speak with my sister."
The nurse nodded, pulled out her phone, and aimed it at the lock.
As the door hissed and started swinging out, Kian took up position next to Annani, while the brothers flanked the door.
Should she ask him to remain outside?
He would never agree, and if he did, he would insist that the brothers guard her while she was in the room with Navuh. It was better to have him there, but he needed to let her do all the talking.
"A favor?" She put her hand on his arm. "Please try not to interfere, not even your usual intimidating looming. I need to handle this on my own."
He looked like he wanted to argue, but something in her expression stopped him, and he nodded. "Ask him about the alert. I need to know what it's about."
The room beyond was small and utilitarian, the same as it was the last time she had visited her nemesis—a hospital bed, monitoring equipment, and a single chair.
Navuh lay on the bed, his body still largely paralyzed from the injuries he had sustained, his wrist encircled by the control cuff that would shock him into submission if he tried anything.
And beside him, holding his hand, sat Areana.
"Annani." Her sister rose from her chair, releasing Navuh's hand. "What are you doing here? What's happened?"
"We will talk later." Annani kept her voice steady and her expression neutral. "Right now, I need to speak with Navuh alone."
Areana glanced at her mate, then back at Annani. A thousand questions swam in her eyes, but she did not voice any of them. She nodded, turned around, and slipped through the door.
It closed behind her with a soft click.
Annani stood motionless for a long moment, staring at the male on the bed. Navuh. The scourge of her existence. The architect of five thousand years of war and suffering. The monster who had stolen her truelove mate from his sandy grave and hidden him away like a trophy.
Then again, without him, she might not have any chance of ever finding Khiann.
If Navuh had not considered Khiann an asset worth preserving for his own selfish reasons, he would not have noted the location where Khiann had been buried, and would not have dug him out and made sure that his body maintained the spark of life needed to one day be resurrected.
The Fates had used Navuh to save her mate.
He was watching her with those cold, calculating eyes, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Annani," he said, his voice smooth and resonant. "What an unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe this late-evening visit?"
Annani walked slowly to the chair Areana had vacated and sat. She folded her hands in her lap, composed her features into a mask of calm, and met Navuh's gaze without flinching.
"The booby traps," she said. "Losham, your adopted son, triggered them a few hours ago, early morning island time."