The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [79]
Haroun wet and shivering after he’d been pulled up with the anchor on the Dark Star.
Haroun smiling brilliantly, hovering over her after he’d learned of the child.
Pain rippled through her as she remembered how annoyed she’d been at that cosseting.
“Selene!”
Layla sounded alarmed, Selene realized finally. Something must be wrong.
Of course something was wrong. Darkness was all around them. Haroun was dead. Haroun had been chopped—
“Catch her, Antonio.”
It was too late. She fell to the ground beside Haroun’s grave.
LAYLA WAS BATHING HER FOREHEAD when Selene opened her eyes.
“It’s about time.” Layla threw the soft cloth aside. “I was beginning to believe you would never wake. Do you realize I’m becoming deplorably adept at this boring task?”
They were in the cave, Selene realized. “How long . . .”
“You fainted three days ago.”
“Three—” She shook her head. “It’s not possible. No faint lasts that long.”
Layla glanced away from her. “There were other problems.”
She stiffened. “What other problems?”
“There was . . . blood.”
“What?”
Layla’s gaze returned to her face. “I think you’ve lost the child.”
“No!”
“I understand it sometimes happens. The shock of Haroun’s death, the strain of the last days—”
“No.”
“Do you think it was easy to tell you this?” Layla said roughly. “I wanted you to have this child. But it’s happened and it’s best you face it now.”
She didn’t want to face it. She wanted to go back to sleep and return to oblivion.
“Don’t you dare.” Layla reached out and grasped her shoulders. “Open your eyes. You stay awake. So God isn’t fair. You just have to go on.”
“All for nothing,” Selene whispered. “Haroun died for—”
“Haroun died because Nasim butchered him. The fault wasn’t yours. And nothing you did caused your child to die. If you want to blame anyone, blame Nasim. He was responsible for both deaths.”
Selene didn’t want to think of blame right now. She wanted to go back to the time when the baby beneath her heart was still alive.
“You should be ready to travel in a few days,” Layla said. “Do I take you back to Genoa to board Tarik’s ship or do we continue to Rome?”
“I don’t know.” She rolled over on her side and curled up in a ball facing the wall of the cave. “I . . . can’t seem . . . to think clearly.”
“Don’t you go back to sleep.”
“I don’t feel as if I’ll ever sleep again.” She stared straight ahead. Empty. She felt empty and cold and lonely. Strange that she’d feel lonely for a babe she’d never held in her arms.
“I hear it sometimes helps to weep,” Layla said awkwardly. “You might try it.”
“I don’t want to weep.” What she was feeling was too deep for tears, the agony too intense to allow her release. “It’s all wrong. Haroun . . . my baby . . . It shouldn’t have happened.”
“I know.” Layla’s hand gently stroked her hair. “I know, Selene.”
Layla didn’t know. She couldn’t experience this pain. She couldn’t know the emptiness.
She couldn’t feel the anger.
Selene didn’t speak for the next two days. She would not eat and Layla doubted if she slept. When Layla tried to talk to her, Selene shook her head and turned away. Neither gentleness nor roughness ignited any response. It was as if she were cocooned in a web of pain that would allow nothing to unravel it.
Layla woke in the middle of the third night. Her gaze flew to Selene’s pallet.
Empty.
She muttered a curse and threw back her blanket. Idiot. She should never have nodded off. It was her duty to protect Selene. Who knew where she’d wandered—
Selene was standing in the entrance of the cave, staring out into the darkness.
Layla heaved a sigh of relief before getting up and moving to stand beside her. “You should go back to your pallet. You need your rest.”
“Soon.”
It was the first word she had spoken in days, but Layla’s relief was short-lived. Selene’s tone was quiet, contained, with no hint of her former passion and agony. It was not natural, and it made Layla distinctly uneasy. “You need to sleep. You’ve not slept for a long time.”
“No, I had to think.”
“Brooding does no good at times like this.”
“I wasn