Valasca throws the dead snake and the branches onto a flat stone, then pulls a knife and begins to skin the serpent. “I took a look around,” she blithely tells us, and I’m relieved to find her natural bravado so quickly restored. “No hydreenas or wraith bats. I did spot a small herd of scorpios, though.”
“S-scorpios?” I sputter, almost dropping the warm mug of tea I’m cradling in my hands.
“They’ll be normal scorpios here,” Valasca counters with a dismissive wave of her knife. “We’re likely to eat a few.”
I raise a brow as her eyes flick to mine, mischief in them, as if gauging my reaction to this.
“Fine,” I tell her unflinchingly. “I’d like my scorpio well seasoned.”
Valasca cracks a smile. “That’s the spirit.”
“So, this cave is to be our home?” Lukas asks Chi Nam. He angles his head toward its sapphire-lit entrance.
“It will be, Young Mage.” There’s some friendly challenge in Chi Nam’s tone as she sips her tea.
“Welcome to the Resistance, Mage Grey,” Valasca crows to Lukas with a laugh as she carves up the snake. “Did you expect a Valgard level of luxury?”
Lukas gives her a tight smile. “No. But a glass of Issani wine would be good right about now.” He shifts his position slightly and gives a sharp wince. Chi Nam’s line of blue sorcery still burns bright along the diagonal wound that spans his bare chest and shoulder, and I can read how much pain he’s feeling in the spiking flare of his magic around the scar.
Valasca pulls a flask from her tunic’s pocket and hands it to Lukas, her expression more subdued now, as if she can read the pain in his gaze. “Tirag,” she says.
Lukas gives her an appreciative look, accepts the flask, unstoppers it, and takes a surprisingly long swig for someone who’s told me he drinks spirits in careful moderation.
He lets out a long, shuddering sigh as I survey his wounds. Lukas’s gash looks much improved, the edges cleanly knit together now. My eyes snag on his muscular chest, lingering as I take in his handsome form. A prickle of heat rises in me, independent of my lines, and I’m instantly embarrassed to be noticing him in this way at this time, but when I meet his eye, he’s smirking wickedly at me, as if he can read my mind. Despite the pain he’s in, he intentionally sends a rippling pulse of heat through me, and I color hotly then look away.
“You shouldn’t do that,” I murmur to him, almost in a whisper. “You should conserve your fire for healing.”
He gives me a sultry look, grins, then throws back another long drink of the tirag.
Both unsettled and drawn in by him, I hold both my palms up to the firepit’s blaze, surprised anew by the storm-gray color of my hands, and of my entire self.
When I glance back at Lukas, his expression appears once more strained from physical discomfort. He takes another long swig of the tirag, and the chaotic force of his fire power around the wound dampens a bit.
Valasca lays the branch-skewered meat over the bowl-shaped firepit, shiny globules of fat dripping from the white snake flesh to crackle and pop on the flame.
An owl’s sonorous call reverberates in the distance.
After a time, Valasca hands me a skewer that’s pierced through several large chunks of meat. “Go ahead, Gardnerian,” she says, her dark eyes glittering with amusement. “It won’t bite. At least, not anymore.”
It smells good, I have to admit. I take a small, hesitant bite and am immediately filled with surprise. It’s like a buttery, greasy cross between poultry and white fish. “It’s...good.”
Lukas eyes me with slight humor. He leans into me as his fire reaches for me with sudden, untethered boldness, possibly loosened up by the sizable amount of tirag he’s consuming.
For a moment, my vision feels blurred by the heat he’s sending through me as it caresses my lines in an enticing rush. I struggle to keep my breathing even as Chi Nam pours more hot tea for everyone.
“Are you drunk?” I ask him.
“Maybe a little,” he admits. “But the pain’s more tolerable now.”
“You’re sending huge waves of fire power into me.”
His lip turns up. “That I pulled from you.”
“You seem a bit restored,” I archly observe.
He breathes out a laugh and gives me a smoky look before growing serious. “Does the fire bother you? I’m not sure I can hold it back.”
I consider this. It’s a whole new experience, being around a Lukas who isn’t so tightly controlled. “No,” I tell him. “I’m glad you’re not in so much pain.”
“You saved my life,” he says, suddenly intense.
I hold up the inside of my wrist, the bumpy scar from the Icaral attack in Valgard visible through the glamour. “It was well past my turn.”
He smiles again and takes another drink of the tirag as we all eat and Chi Nam and Valasca fall into a detailed conversation about the evening’s watch and the shield’s warding.
I let my gaze wander over the arcing rock formations of the Agolith Desert as I sip Chi Nam’s bitter tea in a handleless black mug marked with an ivory dragon design. Everything is lit a soft red by the moon’s scarlet glow, the constellations splashed across the sky like countless luminescent rubies, the red a fabled trick of the skies here. And lining the horizon, the roiling stormwall flashes lightning, lying in wait like a serpent made of violent weather.
Valasca throws more wood on the fire, and my attention is drawn toward the remnants of snakeskin cracking in it.
“Will you and Valasca be teaching me to hunt pythons too?” I ask Lukas, red firelight dancing over the hard, wildly attractive planes of his face and form.
He gives me a slow, lazy smile, his gaze increasingly hooded from the drink. “Elloren, you’ll be able to lay waste to cities. I suspect you’ll be able to take down a python or two.”
Lay waste to cities.
I know he means it partially in jest, but the reality of what I am comes rushing back in with the words, jostling my emotions, and suddenly I’m aware of the waves of emotional and physical exhaustion breaking over me. I lean against Lukas’s good shoulder, and he responds by pulling me closer, his cheek brushing my hair as he angles his head down to nuzzle against me. He inhales deeply, and then, to my great surprise, he kisses my temple, soft and lingering, as his fire shudders through my lines.
Lukas certainly isn’t the least bit shy in private, but he’s always been reserved and formal in public, and I’m both flustered and drawn in by his open display of affection.
“Would you like some?” His tone is light as he offers me Valasca’s flask of tirag.
“I think you need that more than I do,” I wryly observe, declining, even though it’s tempting. Part of me wants to deaden my ever-present grief and my fear of the future and the horrific memories of this evening. I want to forget that there are evil Shadow forces ready to destroy me and everything and everyone that I love. And I want to forget Lukas almost died tonight and how that shook me to the core.
But I also want to stay clearheaded, especially with Lukas injured and increasingly affected by the drink.
“How long do you think it will take me to learn to use a wand?” I ask him.
Lukas pulls in a long, languid breath, growing thoughtful. “It might take a while.” He focuses his glazed eyes on me, and my gaze is drawn to the sensual curve of his mouth, his lips shimmering green in this dark. “I’ve been training intensively in wand magic since I was a young child,” he says. “Elemental magic is complicated and difficult to master. And shielding is some of the most difficult magic of all. But we’ll simply take you out tomorrow morning and start from the beginning.”
“And we’ll pool what we know about mixed magical systems to protect her,” Chi Nam adds, throwing pointed looks at both Lukas and Valasca, her expression made even more formidable by the flickering red firelight. �
�The forces of all the Realms will throw everything they have at us,” she says. “We can’t afford to just be lethal. We need to be one step ahead of them at all times and know their magical systems better than they do.”
“I’ll have the advantage there,” Valasca boasts as she cradles her tea, her elbows resting on her knees as she leans toward the guttering fire. “Because my people link all the runic systems. None of this nonsense about magical mixing being against the gods. And we’re stronger for it. We actually value diversity in Amazakaraan.”
Lukas laughs then winces as he gives her an arch look. “To a point.”
Valasca gives a conceding shrug. “All right, to a point. Minus men.”
Lukas’s sardonic smile widens. “That’s a sizable subtraction.”
Valasca rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, well, I’m here, aren’t I? Not killing you.” Her expression turns feline. “Not yet, anyway.”
Lukas nods, grinning. “Point taken.”
I look to Lukas in surprise. “Could she really kill you?”
Lukas glances at Valasca, their eyes meeting again for a long moment, as if they’re calmly sizing each other up, his gaze flicking over the blades she has sheathed on her arms, at her waist, across her chest. Lukas turns back to me and nods amiably. “Most probably. She’s the head of the Queen’s Guard. That’s not a position that goes to the talentless. She’s likely able to deflect any spell I could throw out.”
“You could try to run a sword through me,” Valasca offers helpfully.
Lukas shoots her a sarcastic look. “I imagine I can’t.”
Valasca barks out a laugh. “I imagine you can’t either.”
Lukas gives her a wolfish look and takes another swig from the flask of tirag, wincing a bit as he lifts his arm.
“Is the pain still bad?” I ask him as Valasca and Chi Nam fall into a conversation about how to link runes from different magical systems.
“It was bad,” Lukas says then pulls in another draft, his gaze on me serious, but then his mouth curves into a lazy grin. “But I’m feeling better and better.” His gaze does a slow slide over my newly gray form as his earth magic brushes my lines. “That gray on you... You’re so beautiful,” he muses throatily. “You look like a storm sweeping in.” He smiles at this, as if amused by his own sentiment, passion firing in his eyes. “You’re going to pull me clear under.”
I raise a brow at this effusive expression of his feelings, charmed by this more open, unrestrained Lukas. His thumb begins to trace a provocative spiral along the side of my waist. I glance at Valasca and flush at the amused, knowing look she’s giving me through the red flames.
“Have you ever drunk this much before?” I ask Lukas, meeting his gaze as his pianist fingers trace over me.
“No,” he says. “But I’ve never been in this much pain before.” His gaze changes, heating as it fixes on mine. “Or wanted anything this much.”
I swallow, caught in the fervency of his look, a deeper tension lighting the air between us. “What is it you want?” I ask, half knowing what his answer will be.
Lukas’s smile fades. “You.”
There’s frustrated yearning in his words. And I’m acutely aware of Chi Nam and Valasca’s silence, their attention clearly settled on us, even though they’re keeping their eyes averted.
“Everyone should get a few hours’ sleep, hmm?” Chi Nam says as she sets aside her tea and gets up with the support of her rune staff. “Valasca and I will take turns as sentry, but there’s likely no need. We’re well protected here.” She unsheathes her rune stylus and holds it up.
The runes on the dome surrounding us brighten, and we’re all bathed in flickering sapphire light as the runes begin to rotate slowly, a brisk current of magic passing through my body.
Chi Nam lowers her stylus, and the dome blinks almost completely out of view, only the dim imprint of a few scattered runes once again hovering in the air.
“These are the same runes that protect the Wyvernguard,” Chi Nam informs us in Noi. “So, rest a bit tonight. We’re safe for the moment.” She motions toward me with a tilt of her rune staff. “Tomorrow, your training begins.”
Lukas holds Valasca’s flask of tirag out to her, and she gets up and accepts it from him, jostling it a bit before turning the flask upside down to show its emptiness, her lips quirking.
“Well, I bet you’re feeling no pain, Gardnerian,” she chides him in Noi, her grin met with Lukas’s own enigmatic smile as she slides the flask back into her tunic’s pocket. “You best sleep this off, Mage Grey. Thanks for saving our asses.”
“I think it was a group effort,” Lukas returns in fluent Noi with a cordial dip of his head.
Valasca huffs out a laugh and shoots him a wry look before throwing sand onto the firepit, casting the ledge into a deeper darkness lit only by the runes on Chi Nam’s glowing staff and the crimson moonlight and constellations. The nighttime desert chill rushes in, swirling around me, but it’s well countered by Lukas’s insistent fire coursing brazenly through my lines.
I look down at my gray skin, my slate nails, dark blue in this light, still a bit astonished to find my coloring devoid of its normal green glow.
I stand up and offer Lukas my hand, but he rises on his own, balling his fist as he carefully flexes his injured arm, then lets out a long, shuddering sigh of relief as he cautiously tests his arm and shoulder’s range of motion, the rune magery coating his wounds dampened to a mellow blue glow, the gash across his chest no longer a broad, gaping wound, but miraculously knit together and already mostly healed.
We follow Chi Nam and Valasca toward the cave, Lukas right behind me.
I glance back at his tall form to find his eyes homed in on me, a rush of his fire simmering through my lines. An unsettling thrill sizzles through me, mixed with bone-deep gratitude for what he’s risked for all of us tonight.
Blue light and warmth envelop us the second we step into the interior of Chi Nam’s Vonor. The light and the heat emanate from sizable crystal orbs hung from iron hooks attached to the walls, Noi runes rotating inside them. We’re surrounded by an indigo-carpeted circular room that appears to be a combined library, armory, and kitchen, bookshelves blasted into stone walls stuffed with volumes in a multitude of languages, a large variety of runic weaponry hung on the walls along with a huge map of the entire Continent of the Realms.
There are additional Noi runes all over the cave, brightening the space with their sapphire light, some drawn on the cave’s walls, some hanging suspended in the air along the periphery of the room, some lining the entire frame of the door we just passed through. And there are other runes as well—a few scarlet Amaz runes, and scattered, suspended emerald runes that I recognize as Smaragdalfar, one of them identical to the rune Sage placed on my abdomen.
“Is this place demon warded?” I ask Chi Nam, pointing to the emerald rune.
Chi Nam smiles approvingly and nods. “Ah, you’re paying attention. Good. You’ll be learning the various runic systems. So we can teach you how to use wands marked with combined sorcery.”
We follow Chi Nam through an entranceway that has a black rune-marked curtain hung over it, through a narrow stone hallway and a small library, then past a dedicated armory.
When we come to another curtained doorway, Chi Nam holds back the rune-marked fabric to reveal what appears to be a sleeping area, the stone floor covered with another circular indigo carpet. A few bedrolls are piled neatly against a wall along with some square embroidered pillows, one bedroll already laid out on the carpeted floor.
“You can each take bedding,” Chi Nam tells us. “Val,” she says to Valasca, “you’re welcome to sleep here in my room.” She turns to Lukas and me and points toward a slim hallway that leads deeper into her network of caves. “I’ve a meditation chamber.” Her eyes flick to me then back to Lukas again, as if trying to gauge the situation betwe
en us. “Lukas, you may use that room, and, Elloren, you are free to stay there or here with us.”
My face warms over this formal acknowledgment of Lukas’s and my sealed fasting.
Mage Elloren Grey.
It strikes me anew that Lukas and I have seriously bound ourselves to each other, which kicks up a whole host of conflicting, powerful emotions.
I glance at Lukas to find him steadily watching me, his expression unreadable, but there’s no subtlety in the way his power is running. It’s not the least bit controlled, as it usually is, because of the tirag, no doubt. Instead, it’s blazing hot and rippling through my every line.
The invitation in it clear.
My thoughts scrambled by Lukas’s sultry magical caress, I swallow and pick up two bedrolls and pillows before Lukas can offer to help.
“Well...thank you,” I say awkwardly to Chi Nam, growing flustered. “I’m sure your meditation room will be fine for us.”
Valasca coughs out an amused laugh and gives me a knowing look as she rolls out her own bedding. Chi Nam simply nods, her savvy gaze passing over both Lukas and me once more before she leaves to stand sentry.
I hug the bedding to my chest as I venture down the slim hall, acutely aware of Lukas quietly following, his out-of-control heat lapping at my back as we step through another curtained doorway into Chi Nam’s dimly lit meditation room.
Unlike all the other halls and rooms, there are no glowing runes marking the walls or suspended in the air of this small room. Only a single rune lamp emits a soft blue glow.
A low-set altar is placed against the rocky wall. It holds a silver incense brazier and a small statue of an ivory dragon wreathed by white birds, and I’m reminded of Raz’zor. There’s what appears to be a Noi religious text placed by the dragon, its black leather imprinted with the image of Vo, the ivory dragon goddess the statue depicts, as well as a series of several small metallic bells of various colors.
“I can take that, Elloren,” Lukas offers, his voice a low thrum as he holds his hand out for some bedding, the crooked smile on his lips tangling my thoughts.
The Shadow Wand Page 46
