Lord's Fall

by Thea Harrison

  Then he had returned to the cliff, along with Calondir, Elven and Wyr mages, his sentinels, and Carling, to study Gaeleval’s “army.”

  Pia had gone with them but she hadn’t stayed long. After she took one long, horrified look at the tragedy in the valley below, she pivoted on her heel and walked away.

  She understood now why Dragos had said there were already too many people for her to help. A lack of attending to basic bodily needs, along with exposure and neglect, had taken its toll on the enthralled Numenlaurians. She could scent gangrene and other whiffs of disease on the wind, and she didn’t trust herself to control either her emotional response or her impulse to vomit. Everybody was busy dealing with their own reactions. Nobody needed to be inflicted with hers as well.

  Already strained from the events of the night, the fighting spirit of the Elves had been broken. She could see it in their faces. Calondir, Linwe, Ferion and all the others were the walking wounded, the expression in their eyes heartsick.

  This whole nightmare leaves the Wyr in an even more awkward position, Dragos told Pia telepathically just before she had walked away. If the Elves themselves can’t face the reality of fighting their own kin or possibly having to cut down an obviously sick Elven child that attacks them, they certainly aren’t going to be able to handle it if the Wyr go alone into battle. When Calondir and I talked, he asked for my oath that we work in partnership on this, and I gave it to him. At the moment our goddamn hands are tied.

  They’re in a terrible position, Pia said as she wiped her eyes. I don’t know how they can endure this. Something has to be done to break that maniac’s hold.

  If I could locate Gaeleval, I might be able to stop him, but he has his army wrapped around him like a shield, Dragos said, his voice tense with frustration. I can’t just go hunting for him on my own. If the Wyr can’t go alone into battle, I certainly can’t kill any more Elves. Whatever we decide to do, Calondir and I have to stay united and do it together. Either that or we run the risk of becoming even worse enemies than we were before.

  Pia picked up her pace, reconnected with her guards and went back to the passageway with them to help construct a quick, rough camp along with the rest of the Wyr. They were basically water- and wind-resistant pup tents to give people a chance to shelter from the weather.

  As the temperature turned bitter, more and more Elves joined them in tight silence, setting up their own shelters as near as they dared to the heat. They came just close enough for the fire to stave off the worst of the bitter night. Even though the fire had quickly melted the snow around in its immediate area until patches of grass showed, nobody wanted to get too close to that magical blaze. Thankfully, the screaming had stopped. There had been enough healers and healing potion to help the burn victims.

  After the shelters were constructed, campfires were set to heat water for hot coffee and tea. Nobody wanted to try to use any part of the magical fire. Soon there came the smell of cooking food.

  “We have to do something,” James muttered. Those who had crossed over in their Wyr forms had since changed back into their human forms to make use of their opposable thumbs and help set up camp. “We can’t all just fucking sit here.”

  “You know better than that,” Eva said. “More than half an army’s time is spent waiting around. Take advantage of the downtime while we’ve got it. I expect we’ll see action soon enough.”

  The group had gathered around their own campfire. Linwe had left them to wait for word and grieve with a few friends.

  Looking spooked, Andrea said, “In the meantime, nobody better go to sleep, or that bastard might add more soldiers to his ranks.”

  Pia lifted her head. She was sitting on a sawed-off log, cradling a cup of tea in cold fingers as she stared into their fire and generally felt useless. Unused to wearing any kind of armor, no matter how lightweight, the molded leather plates had quickly come to feel heavy and restrictive, and she had relished the opportunity to loosen straps until the chest plate and the leg pieces simply hung in place. She would have removed them completely except that they helped to keep her warm.

  She said, “If Dragos could break the enthrallment on the Elves, I bet he has the ability to cast protections on the camp. Besides, everybody is on guard now, and we have other magic users. Gaeleval won’t catch people by surprise again.”

  “Truth,” Miguel said. “If they’re targeted right, aversion spells can work for more things than just physical weapons. But nobody should go to sleep until we get word that we have a plan of defense in place.”

  That plan better be set in place quickly, Pia thought, as she looked around at the other campfires. The Elves had been through more than enough. They were no longer juiced on adrenaline, and they were burdened by grief. They needed to rest and recover their motivation. She probably had less experience than almost anyone present, but she thought Calondir should think up something to do to help inspire his people.

  Meanwhile, the Wyr had worked hard to reach South Carolina fast in response to Dragos’s call. While they were fresher than the Elves and more battle ready, they could still use a few hour’s downtime, and as Dragos had said, they couldn’t go alone into any fight.

  “Nothing’s going to happen this evening,” she said, surprising herself with the confidence she heard in her own voice. Everybody turned to look at her, and suddenly self-conscious, she shrugged. “I’m being logical,” she told them. “I’m not offering you any kind of inside scoop. I don’t think we’ve got a battle in us right now, not with the reality of what’s waiting for us at the bottom of that bluff. Not unless Gaeleval does something else to provoke us or attacks us first.”

  Eva made a face. She said, “Another truth.”

  Not long after that, some second sense made Pia look up, and she saw Dragos striding toward their camp. Even though he was in his human form again, Elves still shied away from him or averted their eyes. Other than one quick, piercing look around, he ignored everybody else and focused on her.

  The others stood as he reached their campfire. “Relax,” he told them. He looked at Miguel. “Except you. Go report to Rune. Carling has agreed to coordinate the magic users on setting up defenses for the night.”

  Miguel nodded and slipped away. “Does that mean you will get the chance to rest tonight?” Pia asked as he bent to give her a swift, hard kiss. She relished the heat that poured off his skin.

  “That remains to be seen,” he said. “Carling thinks that our people can maintain an effective defense if Gaeleval tries something. He may be too overextended to do anything. He may not. If he does try something, the aversion spells they’re going to cast over the camp may hold. They may not. This is all experimental.”

  “Have you had a chance to eat anything?” She stood.

  “I had a couple sandwiches.” He looked at her cup of tea and the dark slash of his eyebrows came together.

  “I haven’t had much of an appetite since I looked in the valley,” she said. “Linwe gave me some wayfarer bread and I have more protein bars in the tent that I can nibble on when I get hungry. Don’t fuss.”

  He gave her a hard look, his mouth held in a severe line. “It is too cold for you.”

  She said drily, “Well, not right here, it isn’t. And the armor kept me warm enough earlier.”

  “I want to know why somebody hasn’t found you a cloak by now. “

  “Because I haven’t asked anybody to,” she said, exasperated.

  He looked around at all the others with his jaw set.

  Eva said to her unit, “Move.”

  As they scattered, Pia shook her head. “You didn’t need to do that,” she told her mate. “They worked hard to set up camp and they earned the right to relax for a bit. Besides, I am quite capable of looking after my own needs.”

  He didn’t bother to reply. Instead he looked at the collection of ten
ts. “Is one of these ours?”

  “Yes.” She pointed to the largest one.

  He walked over, flicked open the flap and looked inside. The frame was tall enough to sit in but not stand upright. The lightweight, wind- and rain-resistant tarps had been stretched over a simple A wooden frame, and the bottoms of the tarps had been buried in snow to insulate the inside of the tent from the wind.

  More wood had been roughly planked, tied together and set inside to provide an insulating barrier to the snowy ground. Each of the psychos’ packs carried an emergency thermal sleeping bag that weighed a fraction of a pound and could retain up to ninety percent of one’s body heat. With shelter from the weather, and a barrier against the cold, wet ground, the tents weren’t comfortable, but they were quick to construct from materials that were either portable or easily harvested from the surrounding area, and they were sturdy enough to withstand a strong wind or even a snowstorm.

  Pia and Dragos’s tent was the Hilton of basic survival tents. It had been built large enough to contain the dimensions of his massive frame, and inside, along with two packages of emergency thermal sleeping bags, there were two real wool blankets folded on the planks.

  Pia had set her pack inside, along with her canteen of water, and her stash of wayfarer bread and soy protein bars, and her crossbow and belt filled with bolts. A small LED flashlight dangled from the top post of the A-frame.

  “Good enough,” Dragos grunted.

  He clicked on the flashlight, shook out one of the blankets over the planks and crawled into the tent, tucking Pia’s pack underneath his head as a pillow. As soon as he was settled into place, he beckoned her with one outstretched hand, and she crawled inside too, tucking the flap shut behind her and trying to take care not to jab him too much with her elbows or knees.

  When she was sitting beside him, she worked on getting the loosened armor off. He sat to help her, pulling the chest and back plates away while she wiggled out of the leg pieces. He threw off so much body heat that the interior of the tent was already warm by the time she was finished. She let out a deep sigh and sagged.

  He lifted her hair gently and smoothed it over her shoulder. Then he put his warm, hard hands at the nape of her neck and began to massage her tired, sore muscles. Exhausted, she sagged further, leaning into his strength.

  “It’s so cold,” she whispered. “And there are children out there.”

  “I know,” he said. “I don’t think they’re aware of what is happening to them, if that’s any consolation.”

  “It’s not, much.”

  “I know,” he said again, very low.

  She twisted to face him. “You never had the chance to tell me what happened when you went to examine the enthralled Elves.”

  “When I removed the beguilement, three of them died,” he said. He stroked his long, lean fingers through her hair. “It was unavoidable, but still half of Calondir’s advisors are calling for him to banish me from the Elven demesne again. Some bright soul put two and two together, and pointed out that I couldn’t have responded so fast to the fire if I hadn’t already broken their law and trespassed in their demesne again. That’s why I can’t go hunting Gaeleval on my own, and I can’t kill any more Elves, at least not without an indisputable reason.”

  She groaned and dug the heels of her hands into her dry, tired eyes. “They can’t banish you. They need us too much right now.”

  “I know.” He paused. “Before I broke the beguilement, Gaeleval used the enthralled Elves as mouthpieces. I wanted to warn you in case he does that again here. It’s pretty disturbing to watch.”

  She nodded as she took one of his hands in both of hers and held it in her lap. She stroked the broad back of his palm and laced her fingers through his. “Are you going to try to do the same thing here?”

  “I don’t know. Calondir asked what would happen if I did, and I told him that the death rate was going to be much higher. Gaeleval has controlled the ones in the valley for a lot longer than he did the ones in Lirithriel Wood. Aside from the fact that it will be harder to strip the beguilement from their identities, many of these Elves have sickened physically. It’s possible his control is the only thing that still animates some of them.” He shook his head, his mouth set in grim lines. “That’s as far as we got. At that point he stopped the conversation.”

  It sounded like Dragos was describing zombie Elves. She shuddered. “Is there any real choice about trying to free them?”

  “None at all. After we stop Gaeleval—and we will stop him—the beguilement will still need to be lifted from his victims. The ones who are too sick or weak will still die. It is possible though, that they may be able to save some of those who are sick, if proper medical attention is at hand. If we have to take the beguilement off in the middle of a battle, we’ll lose the ones that might otherwise have been saved.”

  The back of her nose prickled and her eyes grew damp.

  He watched her face with a shadowed gaze. “It hurts to see things through your eyes sometimes,” he said quietly.

  She looked at him quickly. “Is it harder on you that I came?”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Maybe in some ways, yes. Gaeleval said through his mouthpieces that I’m vulnerable in ways I’ve never been before, and he’s right. But in other ways, I’m stronger and better with you than without.” He gave her a small smile. “And there’s an added benefit. I don’t have to miss you.”

  She couldn’t smile back. “So I wasn’t wrong to come?”

  “No, Pia,” he said. “I still don’t like it that you’re here, but you weren’t wrong to come.” He paused. “I suppose this is partnership.”

  “Yes,” she said. “This is partnership.”

  She leaned forward then and kissed him, openmouthed, and he sank a hand underneath her hair to cup the back of her neck as he kissed her back. His breath ghosted over her as he licked the corner of her lips. “Dammit,” he murmured. It was the barest thread of sound, yet it still carried the force of his frustration.

  Her breasts felt heavy and full, and she throbbed with emptiness. “We could be really quiet,” she breathed.

  A corner of his sexy mouth lifted. “Well, I could be but I don’t think you could. You tend to get a little noisy at times, lover. Not that I’m complaining in the slightest, as it speaks to your enthusiasm. I merely point out the fact.”

  She walked two fingers up his arm as she leaned forward. “We would just have to find a way to keep me muffled,” she murmured against his ear. “Got any bright ideas?”

  “You know I do,” he told her. Then he lifted back his head to give her a serious look. “As long as you’re sure. The conditions could hardly be any less ideal.”

  “I’m sure.”

  They were so lucky they could share stolen time together and draw comfort from each other in a warm, dry place. She was so incredibly lucky that she could relax against his inexhaustible strength and feel the two most luxurious things of all, love and safety. So many people would endure that night feeling neither love nor safety, and many of them might be in the valley. Dragos might not believe that the enthralled knew much about what was happening to them, but she wondered if something of their spirits knew. She had to wonder what Beluviel felt that night, or the children.

  Dragos reached overhead and clicked off the flashlight, throwing their tent into darkness. A dim light from the campfires and the blazing passageway showed through the tarps. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the outline of his head and broad shoulders. He hugged her close, his big hands running down her back.

  “My fingers are cold,” she warned in a whisper.

  “You know that doesn’t matter.” She could hear a smile in his murmur.

  She gave into temptation and slipped her hands under his black silk sweater, and all the starch melted from her spine as she came in contac
t with his bare, hot skin. He sighed and shifted closer, slipping his hands under her own sweater to cup her breasts.

  Are you warm enough? he asked, as he ran his fingers along the edge of her bra to the fastening at the back.

  Mm. I’m plenty warm now. She reached over her head and pulled her sweater off as he unfastened her bra.

  He bent his head, and she wondered what he saw, as he massaged her bare breasts gently. I always thought I was a leg man, he said, his voice filled with lazy sensuality. Until I became acquainted with your truly outstanding breasts.

  Were they outstanding? She tucked her chin in and looked down at herself, but her body was just as shadowed as his was. She remarked, doubtfully, I’m pretty sure they’re just boobs.

  They’re exquisite works of art, he told her. He pulled off his own sweater and set it aside on top of hers. And since you have the most remarkable legs I have ever seen, I get the best of both worlds.

  She smiled against the satin skin covering the hard muscles of his shoulder. She teased him about her changing body, partly in an effort to cover up how she occasionally felt self-conscious at her thickening waist and growing breasts, but he never left her in any doubt that he loved everything about how she looked, not only before the pregnancy started to show but at every stage since. She simply couldn’t hold on to her self-consciousness for long.

  Aren’t you a lucky man, she said.

  He bent his head further and licked along the swell of one breast. I am a lucky man, and you know why? While I find everything about your body unutterably sexy, the most sexy thing of all is your mind. When you talk to me telepathically and I’m in a conference, sometimes I get a hard-on and I have to leave the room.

  Is that why you’ve shown up for a quickie when I thought you were busy? She scratched his flat, hard nipples lightly with the edge of her fingernails.