Echo in Amethyst Read online

  “Surely there will be no untimely accidents,” he said in a low voice. “Surely they’re all splendid riders, and none of them will come to grief.”

  Now Elyssa’s smile intensified. “So then—two hours? How shall we spend that time?”

  Roland glanced back at the stairwell, silently suggesting they retire to one of their rooms.

  Elyssa laughed. “No, no, too much of a risk, even with the house emptied! But I found a library at the end of the hallway—we wouldn’t be disturbed there, I think, even by the servants.”

  Now Roland’s grip shifted to her wrist and he started tugging her toward the hall. “Then by all means. Let’s see what kinds of books Kendrick has assembled for the reading pleasure of his guests.”

  The minute we were back in the cramped and dusty room, Roland pulled Elyssa into his arms and began kissing her with a desperate hunger. Again, I was held in the echo’s tight embrace; again, I felt his hands alternately hold me uncomfortably close or roam with distressing familiarity over my body. Both Roland and Elyssa were making small, sharp sounds that could have been pain but were probably pleasure, but the echoes all strained together in absolute silence.

  Roland almost fell on his face when Elyssa abruptly pulled free. “No,” she panted.

  He reached for her. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

  “Not you.” She turned her head to gaze at the echoes, and the look on her face showed pure venom. “I want to be with you. Alone with you.”

  It was clear Roland didn’t comprehend. “But we are alone. Just the two of us.”

  “And the six of them.”

  “But they’re echoes,” he said, still bewildered.

  “I just don’t— It feels like they’re watching.” She bit her lip, trying to explain. “I can’t relax and be myself with you when they’re in the room. I know that sounds odd.” She shook her head.

  Roland glanced around doubtfully. “I suppose we can put them out in the corridor. Though if someone sees them—”

  “There’s a closet across the hall,” she said eagerly. “Can’t they just wait there?”

  Roland brushed his hand down the back of her silky hair and kissed her quickly on the cheek. “Why not? I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a room without my echoes, but I’d rather be in a room with you.”

  “You’re the sweetest man in the whole kingdom,” she whispered. Almost the same words he’d said to her a few weeks ago. I thought they were truer now than then.

  “Well, come on then. Let’s move them,” Roland said practically.

  There was a very short parade along a very short route as the six of us followed our originals into the crowded closet. Naturally, the minute Roland and Elyssa stepped back into the hall, the echoes tried to exit behind them. Well—I didn’t, and Elyssa’s other two echoes seemed undecided; she had released us and we were no longer under a compulsion to behave exactly as she did. But Roland’s echoes attempted to march out right behind him and couldn’t understand why he closed the door in their faces. They tried several times to push it open, and if there hadn’t been a lock that he was able to engage from the other side, I don’t think they would have been willing to remain behind. Echoes can’t speak, but all three of them pressed up against the door, making scrabbling motions with their hands and emitting strange, inarticulate cries.

  “I’m right here,” I heard him say through the door. “Right across the hall. Hardly any distance at all.”

  I might have believed Roland had terrible judgment when it came to love, but I liked him better when I saw that he was genuinely kind to his echoes.

  I didn’t have long to think about that because a second later I heard the door to the library close, and I was instantly in the arms of one of Roland’s lookalikes. This time, neither Elyssa nor Roland held back; this time, the kisses were deep and passionate and full of purpose. The echo’s hands worked more deftly than I would have expected to undo the buttons on the back of my dress. And when the bodice was loose enough, he pulled the gown down off my shoulders, tugging my chemise down after it. My chest was suddenly naked and exposed.

  Now his hands ran greedily over my breasts, cupping them and squeezing them; now he bent and lay that slack mouth upon my nipples. I gasped and tried to back away, hampered by the loosened skirts that hung too low around my ankles and by the hopeless clutter of the room. I took another step back and knocked some household item crashing to the floor. The echo didn’t even notice. Inches away from me on either side, the other pairs of echoes strove together, their breaths coming ragged and heavy.

  I choked out a sound that was almost a word. No. Of course it wasn’t a word. Of course he didn’t hear me, or understand, or obey. No, I tried again.

  The intensity between Elyssa and Roland increased. The echo’s mouth returned to mine, but now his hand was traveling all across my bare skin, and his body moved against mine with a determined rhythm. He bent suddenly to lift my skirts to my waist, bunching them together to expose my thin silken underthings, and then began pressing his body against mine with renewed urgency. I could feel the crumpled fabric make a thick, uncomfortable roll between our stomachs, and I could feel a different kind of uncomfortable lump—part of his body—rubbing up against mine.

  Then he reached down with one hand to undo his trousers, while his other hand pulled aside my thin undergarments. I was exposed to him, I was helpless, he was lunging for me—

  I shoved him away with one hand and said, “No!” as loudly as I could.

  He stumbled backward, clumsy and confused, but the instant he regained his balance, he came for me again. This time I pushed him even harder, and my voice was even louder. “No. No. No!”

  On either side of me, the other echoes were joined in such an intimate manner that I couldn’t tell where one body ended and the other began. There were strange sounds of grunting and panting and feet shifting and clothes rubbing together and chairs scraping across the floor as someone backed into them. The tiny room took on a faint but definite odor that was partly sweat and partly something else. I didn’t understand exactly what was happening, but certainly it mirrored whatever was transpiring between Elyssa and Roland in the other room. I had the feeling that it was exactly the kind of behavior that Trima had warned Elyssa against.

  The echo came toward me again, mindless and instinctual, but this time I was more sure of myself. “No,” I said firmly, flattening my hand against his chest and locking my elbow. I had managed one word; might I be able to form others? Feeling my mouth work with the unaccustomed motion, I spoke clearly and deliberately, “Stay away from me.”

  And then—it was the oddest thing—his blank face became blanker, his strangely diffused focus on me evaporated. His body still moved in that rhythmic, sensual thrusting, tied to the actions of his original, but he no longer felt a compulsion to try to join himself with me. It was as if he no longer saw me, though I was standing inches away from him and still had my hand against his torso.

  It was as if he no longer saw me as an echo.

  Slowly, guardedly, in case I suddenly drew his attention again, I curled my fingers, I let my arm drop, I stepped away. Around me, the two paired sets of echoes continued to writhe and whisper, while the unmatched one attempted to copulate with empty air. But no one bothered me or touched me or looked at me or noticed me at all.

  I did what I could to shrug myself back into my dress, though I couldn’t reach all of the buttons behind me. There was no mirror in this small box of a space, so I smoothed down my hair as best I could and made sure the lace around my bodice fell demurely. Then I found a small, unoccupied corner where I could simply wait.

  The second that I came to rest, that I had a moment to think, I was flooded with a complex and bewildering set of emotions. First was soaring elation. Words! I spoke words! No matter that the creature I had addressed couldn’t hear or understand me—I had heard. I had understood. I had summoned thoughts and voiced them of my own volition. It was almost impossibl
e to comprehend.

  But hard on the heels of that stunning realization was a punch of fear. Elyssa will destroy me. She already suspected there was a sentient will buried deep within me, and she hated it. If she learned that I could walk and think and speak on my own, she would abuse me past endurance.

  Then another thought, wholly new. But how will she ever know? Roland’s echo certainly couldn’t tell her—even if he understood what had happened, he couldn’t say the words out loud, couldn’t use gestures or facial expressions to convey the information. I was safe as long as no one ever realized that there was a functioning mind inside this slaved body.

  I was safe as long as I didn’t do anything stupid.

  I was still mulling that over when, a few moments later, all the laboring echoes let out inarticulate cries and then leaned against each other, breathing heavily and clinging together. A moment only, then Elyssa’s echoes smiled up at Roland’s and pulled themselves free. All five of them went through much the same grooming process as I had, although the male echoes helped the women fasten their buttons in back. Not the echo I had been paired with—he simply plucked at the air as if dressing an invisible partner. Well, that wasn’t very helpful. I struggled again to reach over my shoulder. I thought I only had one button still undone. Would Elyssa notice? Surely from that one small detail she wouldn’t be able to deduce what had happened? I felt that wash of fear again.

  There was a low murmur from the other room, the sound of a door opening, and then Roland unlocked our small prison. “There you are!” he said, unmistakable relief in his voice. “Quickly—into the library with all of you. Let’s be certain everyone is presentable.”

  I made sure my eyes were unfocused and my gaze was averted as Elyssa and Roland drew us back into the library. In a few moments, they had fixed our clothing and wiped all smudges from our faces.

  “Clean as if they’d just stepped from the hands of the valet,” Roland pronounced, stepping back to appraise his efforts.

  Elyssa was smirking. “Do you think so? I’m sure our expressions are so smug that everyone will merely take one look at us and know we’ve been up to something.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to sit across from you at dinner and not grin like an idiot the whole time,” he admitted.

  “I’ll flirt with Kendrick all night, and that will set you to frowning instead.”

  “What? No, don’t do that! I’m already jealous.”

  She laughed and patted his cheek. “We must make a little effort to be discreet, dear Roland. If I can bear to flirt with Kendrick, you can bear to watch.”

  He grumbled as he followed her down the hall and then headed up to his room when she insisted they had to separate. A few moments later, she had called for the carriage, and the four of us set off for the village. I was sitting across from her, terrified that something in the set of my shoulders or the comprehension in my eyes would draw her attention, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts and didn’t even glance my way.

  We strolled through the village for about an hour, though it was clear Elyssa was completely bored. Once we were back in the carriage, she was restless and on edge, but she cheered up when we arrived at the lodge to find some of the hunters had straggled back.

  “How was the sport?” she asked as we alighted. “What did I miss?”

  The rest of the day passed with the usual mix of talking, dining, and playing games. True to her promise, Elyssa spent much of the afternoon in close conversation with Kendrick, who seemed dazzled by her attention, while Roland glowered from the fringes. One of the other noblewomen took pity on him, sitting beside him and trying to draw him out, but he ignored her as if she were an echo. I didn’t once see Elyssa glance his way.

  Nothing else of note occurred until we returned to Elyssa’s bedroom and Trima began undressing her for the night. She had hung up all our gowns and begun to strip away our underthings, when she froze with a handful of lacy drawers in her grip.

  “What’s this?” she demanded.

  Elyssa was drawing on a robe and yawning. “What’s what?”

  “Your underclothes. What’s this? Is it—is it blood?”

  Elyssa took a seat on the bed and looked innocent. “I don’t know, is it?”

  Trima dropped the garment to the floor and frantically turned to the echoes to begin checking between our legs. “Yes—blood on this one, and this one—not this one, for some reason, but—” She swung around to stare at Elyssa. “Sweet merciful goddess, child, what have you done?”

  Elyssa rolled her eyes and stretched herself out on the bed. “All right, I admit I went too far with Roland this afternoon, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. I can handle him.”

  “Nothing for me to worry about!” Trima still stood there, staring, as if she couldn’t force herself to believe what she had just heard. “If your father learns of this—”

  “Well, how will he, unless you tell him? I certainly won’t.”

  “Goddess have mercy on my soul. Don’t you ever think? What if you get pregnant? Then your father won’t be the only one who knows. The whole world will know.”

  Elyssa’s expression drew into a sulky frown. “I won’t get pregnant.”

  “How do you know that? Did you take any precautions?”

  Now Elyssa’s voice was as surly as her face. “No.”

  Trima threw her hands in the air. “Then your chances are very good! When did you last have your monthlies? If the weeks go by and they don’t come when they should— Oh, this is a disaster!” She began pacing through the small room.

  “If that happens, we’ll deal with it then,” Elyssa said in a voice that sounded calm, but I could tell she was making an effort. She was not used to making foolish mistakes, and she was beginning to realize just how badly she had erred this afternoon.

  Trima was still pacing. “My sister lives in a small town on the other side of Alberta. We can go stay with her for a few months. Your father will come up with some reason. People will know—they always know—but maybe your reputation won’t suffer too much for it. You’re a high noble, after all, with three echoes. A lot can be overlooked.”

  Elyssa gestured toward the three of us. “What about them? Do they become pregnant, too?”

  Trima threw her another glance of condemnation. “How can you be so ignorant? Of course they don’t. If they did, we’d be overrun with echo babies by now.”

  “Good. Then there would be only one problem to deal with.” She covered her mouth to hide a yawn, though I thought she faked it. “But I don’t think the problem will arise.”

  Trima snorted and shook her head, and then turned to the task of preparing the echoes for bed—or rather, for our pallet on the floor. Soon enough, the lights were out and we all lay there in darkness. It seemed like a long time before anyone fell asleep.

  Elyssa, I was sure, was reviewing the day’s encounter, perhaps savoring it for its physical delights, but regretting it for the terrible price she might have to pay. She didn’t toss and turn, like Trima, but she did shift around more than she ordinarily did, as if she couldn’t quite find her accustomed ease in her body.

  Trima kept sitting up and changing positions, making small muttering sounds under her breath. I wondered if she worried about her own future as well as Elyssa’s. She was here as Elyssa’s maid, true, but was she also in some sense a chaperone? If Elyssa became pregnant with Roland’s child, would Lord Bentam blame Trima? Would she be out of a job?

  I lay still on my hard bed, shifting as little as possible, scarcely breathing, but I was as wide awake as the other two. This day had been as momentous for me as it had been for Elyssa—I, too, had taken a path from which it seemed there was no turning back, chosen an action for which the consequences could prove enormous. Like Elyssa, I might have no control over what happened next, but that my future might be very different from my past—for good or ill—I was very certain.

  Elyssa might be sorry. I thought she probably was. But for myself, I
could only be grateful and amazed. And glad.

  I had words.

  I was a person.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The weeks following our return from the hunting lodge were absolutely miserable. During the first five days, Elyssa was tense and moody, snapping at everyone, even Trima. A new housemaid gave her notice, and the girl who was hired to replace her quit after one day. Every other servant in the house avoided Elyssa, if at all possible, and no one—human or echo—was willing to meet her eyes.

  She was filled with such bitter, restless anger that she revisited her favorite old pastime of torturing me. It was terrifying to kneel before her and feel the cool slice of the blade on my back between two ribs—a place no scar would ever be seen, except perhaps by the echo of her lover. Terrifying because I was awake, I was conscious, and I was in agony, but I had to endure the abuse with an echo’s blind stoicism, no matter how long it lasted.

  One afternoon, she shoved me facedown on the floor and knelt on my back, jerking my head up by clutching a handful of my hair. She had a knife in her right hand, and she buried the tip of it right under my left ear. I could feel a drop of blood trickle down my skin. I knew that with one casual swipe of the blade, she could cut my throat.

  She leaned down so close to me, I could feel her breath against my cheek. “I swear by every face of the triple goddess,” she whispered, “if I ever thought you were awake in there, I would kill you in an instant.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t squirm. I barely breathed. She could have been forgiven for thinking I was already dead. After a moment, with a cry of frustration, she scrambled to her feet. She flung the dagger aside and began kicking me in the ribs and the stomach, over and over, until her rage was exhausted. I never made a sound.

  Roland came to call on the third day, but Elyssa refused to see him. I was standing near enough to the window to see him ride away, the slump of his shoulders showing his disappointment. As he and his echoes reached the end of the long, curving drive, they pulled up their horses and turned, all at once, to gaze back at the house in hope and despair.