Captive of the Deep by Michelle M. Pillow Page B

again looked uncomfortable and she knew he must want to ask her about what she’d been doing. He didn’t and she didn’t offer up any confessions.   “Here. I will help you inside. I sent word ahead to have the rooms prepared. It has been awhile since I have been here, but the bedding should be fresh and there should be food left in the kitchen.”
    Rigel reached into the cart to lift her up. The sweat on his skin told of his long excursion carting her there. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as she moved to look the way they came. There was no sign of the palace or the city, but instead a mountain valley. She knew she could have probably walked if she really wanted to, but he already offered and her body was violently sore.
    “Have I been ill?” she asked.
    “Very,” he answered. “Althea the Healer tended to you the best she could and we thought it best to let you sleep through the worst of it. Are you feeling better?”
    “Better than what?” she mumbled. “Apparently I’ve been asleep.”
    He stopped walking.
    “Yes,” she answered louder than she needed to. With her head resting near his shoulder he could hear her just fine. “I feel better. Thank you.”
    Columns reached up both sides, supporting the roof as it shaded the portico. Rigel fumbled to opened the door. The house was unlocked and he carried her inside.
    The front door led to a small entryway. Beyond that was a large atrium with marble walls and floors. Aside from a few benches, the atrium was barren. A hole was formed in the ceiling, letting fresh air into the house. Seeing a pool beneath the hole, she guessed it let in rainwater as well.
    “You should be comfortable here,” Rigel said. “You are free to go where you will.”
    He carried her past an indoor garden with stone paths and very neglected, overgrown plants. Reaching a wide door, he walked her through it and brought her to a bed. Rigel set her on top of the covers. Instantly, her body sank into the comfortable bedding. She sighed in pleasure.
    “I will get you food,” he said as he left her.
    Lyra nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. Stretching, she rolled on her side and closed her eyes.
     
* * * * *
    Rigel heard Lyra’s soft breathing and knew she slept. Closing the bedroom door to leave her in peace, he walked back toward the kitchen to put down the tray of food he had made for her. Just as he was about to leave, he changed his mind and grabbed the plate and carried it outside with him.
    Setting it down on the tall, cylinder offering stone, he said a quick prayer. It has been a long time since he’d done such a thing. At first when they’d come down, he prayed for the country to return to the surface. Then, he prayed for Nemus to come back whole. Now, he prayed that Lyra would return the love he felt for her. It was not lost on him that the first two prayers had gone mostly unanswered. Nemus was dead, though he did see him again. They were underwater, though he did get to see the surface from beneath the waves as a hunter. Though, come to think of it, Lyra did not seem to be warming to the idea of being with him for an eternity, though she allowed him in her bed. Perhaps he needed to be more specific in his requests to the gods. Or, perhaps it was time to stop the foolish dreams.
     
* * * * *
    Lyra’s stomach growled so loud it awoke her from her sleep. She blinked as she pushed up from the comfortable bed to find Rigel sitting on the mattress next to her. He held a plate of food on his lap and a piece of fruit in his hand. At her attention, he gestured to the food for her to take some. Not needing to be asked twice, she reached for a large piece of fish and quickly pushed the morsel into her mouth.
    Moaning softly as she ate, she closed her eyes. “I feel like I haven’t eaten for a year.” She was reaching for more before she’d even swallowed the first bite. Rigel placed the plate closer to her and watched her as she ate every bit of it.
    When she’d