Myths and Magic: An Epic Fantasy and Speculative Fiction Boxed Set

by K.N. Lee

  Casimir knelt over me, his knees resting on either side of my hips. I sat up, grabbing the furs to my chest as I looked around. "Where is she?"

  "Where is who?"

  Just in time I caught my tongue. Just a dream. Or was it? I could feel the burning touch of her fingertips on my forearm, and didn't dare turn it over, just in case there were actual burns there.

  Would you kill the firebird for your king?

  Suddenly, the firebird was no longer a creature of myth and legend, but something real.

  And now I knew why she'd been created. I had to stop Evaron's quest, before it was too late.

  8

  "Are you certain you're all right?" Casimir asked, early the next morning.

  We were packing to return to the others. The fire had died down, due to lack of wood to feed it, if nothing else. Its flames still licked hungrily, feeding on virtually nothing at all. I kicked snow over the ashes, and they hissed at me malevolently, and then flared up again.

  "Neva?" Cas grabbed me by the arm.

  "No, I'm not all right!" I snapped. "This quest is wrong. Everything is wrong. You're going to kill a creature of myth and for what? A king? A tyrant king?"

  His face darkened. "Don't say that too loudly."

  "Or what will happen? Is Hussar lurking behind that tree?" I demanded, forced to look up at him. "Ready to leap out and expose me for a traitor? Wouldn't you hear him coming?"

  He captured my upper arms, still looking behind him. The corded muscle in his throat flexed. "Of course, I would. That doesn't mean voices don't carry." The tension in his fingers softened, and he looked down at me. "I've spent over ten years watching what I say. They burned a man once, just for calling the king greedy. I don't want that to happen to you."

  "It's not going to happen." My hands came to rest on his chest, though I had a moment of doubt about what exactly my intentions were. I'd pushed him away once.

  "Just be careful," he stressed.

  "One would almost think you're worried about me," I joked.

  His hands kept skimming over my arms, moving a little slower. Our eyes met. Heat from his breath skittered over my sensitive lips, and it was only then I realized his head had lowered, almost unconsciously. The breath punched out of me. My gaze slid to his mouth.

  "Cas," I breathed, and it was the first time I'd called him that.

  "I don't want to see you hurt," he said gruffly.

  Last night sprang to mind.

  "Are you asking?" Was that my voice? So rough and raw?

  His lashes fluttered lower over his cheeks. "Are you saying no?"

  Some sort of strangled noise came out of my mouth. "I'm not saying no."

  Those eyes lit up like hot coals, as the predator flared within him. I expected him to pounce, but he moved as though he didn't want to scare me away. Like I was some bird fluttering in the bushes, and the second he moved I'd vanish in a flurry of wings.

  His thumbs slid over my cheeks, as his hands cupped my face. "Last chance, Neva Bane," he growled. His head angled, and then his breath whispered over my open mouth. "Yes? Or no?"

  Sweet Vashta. There was no way to answer that. Not with words. I grabbed a handful of his shirt and stretched up onto my tiptoes, as our mouths collided.

  Dozens of butterflies swirled through my stomach. His mouth was on mine, his fingers threading through my hair, tangling in the tight curls. A kiss, and not that swift thing I'd stolen behind the inn once when I was curious. This was hot, and wet, and fierce as want suddenly surged through me. The wall of his chest crushed against mine as he dragged his hands down my back and tugged me closer.

  The world vanished. It felt like the firebird's feather brushed against me, setting me alight and chasing its way through my veins like the steady flow of molten lava. I had a fist in his hair, my tongue darting over his. Exhilaration breathed new life into me, and I bloomed the same way I did when I ran through the forest, turning into something malleable and utterly helpless in his arms.

  Cas broke the kiss first, breathing hard. Confusion danced through his eyes. A look I had no way of interpreting, for I could still feel his breath on my mouth, and my hands were stroking over the hard leather covering his chest—

  "Ho! I see smoke!" someone called, and both of us broke apart in surprise.

  "The prince," I blurted.

  Cas looked around wildly, and I couldn't help thinking he hadn't heard the men coming either. No, that look of confusion—and something else I couldn't define—had been all for me. I shoved away from him, taking two stumbling steps across the clearing as I glared at the fire that had given us away.

  I touched my heated lips. What had I been thinking?

  Clearly I wasn't the only one thinking it. Cas's hand brushed against my hip and he leaned in close. "Sorry. That should never have happened."

  Then he was moving past me, the muscle in his legs bunching as he hurried up the small incline to greet the men.

  "Don't worry, it won't happen again," I muttered, and knew he heard me.

  "I didn't mean it like that," Cas murmured, stealing a moment when we stopped to water the horses.

  My stomach jumped, doing a nervous little dance. A quick glance showed nobody was watching. "What do you mean?"

  "I'm wolvren, Neva. I'm a virtual slave. Just because I want something, doesn't mean I can have it." He leaned against his horse, his amber eyes lighting on mine as he stroked her flank.

  "Momentary loss of concentration," I muttered, looking anywhere for help. This wasn't happening. "On both of our behalf."

  "Not for me. I was hoping to kiss you from the start," he said, and led his horse up the hill, leaving me with those words.

  Words I didn't know what to do with.

  I'd once known what I was doing with my life—I was going to follow in my father's footsteps. Hunting was all I knew, and the only place I felt at ease was in the forest. There'd been a kiss once. A mercenary's nephew who'd been close to my age, and full of empty flirtation, while his uncle dealt with my father. It had been quick and confusing, a single moment behind the inn when father wasn't looking, and I hadn't precisely thought of it ever since.

  Ellie was the one who was going to get married. Averill was far too cynical, and I'd never dreamed those dreams before. Every sense I owned had been focused on seeing my father through his illness, and keeping us fed. I didn't have time for dreams.

  I still didn't have time for dreams.

  And if I did, did they involve a hulking brute of a wolvren, whose scowls were surly, but who looked at me as if his eyes could swallow me whole?

  My breath caught in my chest, and I swiftly capped my own water skin. Thoughts like that could get me killed. We were in Gravenwold, and I needed all my wits about me.

  "All right," Hussar called, drawing the attention of everyone gathered. "We're in the heart of the forest now. That firebird's got to be here somewhere. You. Girl. How do we track it?"

  Over a dozen sets of eyes turned to lock on me.

  "How would I know?" I replied. "My job was to get you here."

  "You're the mighty huntress." He spat on the ground. "You're the one who keeps babbling about monsters, and woogity-boos, and so on."

  The men laughed, and my cheeks heated. I knew what he was about. Anything to kick me down a few rungs on the ladder. I could seriously develop a personal vendetta against Hussar.

  I hope one of my monsters eats you, I said with my eyes.

  Hussar crossed his arms over his chest smugly.

  "I'm sure a firebird is outside the realm of experience of anyone gathered here," Prince Evaron said diplomatically. "Its not precisely commonplace, hence my father's obsession with it. So I guess we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Why don't we split up?"

  Precisely the last thing we should do. "We rode in here with twenty men," I pointed out. "We're down to sixteen, and we just made it into the most dangerous part of the forest. Everything that's happened so far has been the forest warning us. It's abo
ut to get serious. If we separate into smaller groups, we leave ourselves vulnerable."

  "Girl's afraid of her own monsters," said Hussar.

  "Remind me how many times you actually hit the volgur?" I replied, with a smile that had too many teeth in it. "Oh, that's right. None. At least I sunk an arrow in its eye. I'm fairly certain I didn't see you standing in its way."

  Hussar's face blackened and he took a step toward me...

  "That's enough," Evaron snapped, holding his hand out. He transferred his glare from Hussar to me. "Both of you."

  He began pacing. "Neva has a point though. We've already lost four men. I would prefer to return victorious, with every man left in this company" —the men cheered— "and splitting up makes it easier to pick us off. We'll send out small scouting parties, ahead of the main group but within easy earshot. Cas?"

  Cas nodded. "Aye."

  "You'll be my head scout. You and Neva, as she knows these woods. We keep an eye out for anything that might lead us to the firebird, and we make our scouting methodical so we're not doubling back on ourselves. Every man needs to be on guard and ready for anything." His gaze returned to Cas. "As much as I understand your need to protect me, I think a two man guard will be best. Jur and Helmick, you two can take the first shift. If we're attacked, the pair of you will fall back to me. The rest of the group must work together to repel the creature. Think like wolves, and use each other to distract and hamstring. Any questions?"

  "What are we looking for?" One man called, raising a hand.

  "Neva?" Evaron turned to me.

  How to say a little without saying a lot? "The firebird makes its nest of wood and resin according to the Old Ways. All the better to burn when it renews itself. Only one can exist at a time. That's about all I know."

  "Superstitions and sweet nothing," Hussar muttered, as he started tugging something out of his pack. "Prepare yourself, lads."

  They began rubbing some sort of unguent on their skins.

  "What's that?"

  Prince Evaron handed me some and I sniffed it, and then screwed my nose up.

  "A flame retardant," he said. "The Fire Priests use it."

  Convenient. "May I ask how you're going to trap the firebird? After all, if it bursts into flame, then there's not going to be much more than a handful of ashes to present to the king."

  "We have nets," Evaron replied, "spelled by the Fire Priests of the Way of the Light. They'll counteract the firebird's flames, and trap it within. They prevent a creature from using its magic."

  "And then what?" I couldn't help thinking of what Galina had told me. The firebird needed to stay in Gravenwold, or the Darkness would be free. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought.

  "We take it to Caskill, preferably alive. If we can't then we take its heart. Hussar has a magically sealed glass container in the chest Marron's been carrying. My father's priests said he'd need to eat the heart."

  That sense of wrongness kept creeping up my spine. How was I going to mislead them?

  Maybe we'd never find it? The heart was vast. It stretched all the way to the mountains that had once been the borders of the empire. Maybe it would be too late... I couldn't rely on that though.

  You could kill the prince, something whispered.

  No. Ashes, no. But the thought set me thinking.

  What if Prince Evaron had a—relatively harmless—accident? Perhaps that might prevent our mission, and require the men return to Caskill.

  I cringed at the thought of crippling him somehow, and caught Cas watching me as he looped rope around his palm and elbow, making a tight coil with it.

  If there was anyone who was going to keep Evaron safe, it would be him, and I didn't know how I felt about that.

  Just because I want something, doesn't mean I can have it...

  Curse him. Why had he said that?

  Okay, hurting the prince was probably out of the question. I was a scout. I was going to have to mislead the party.

  "Let's move out!" Hussar bellowed, in that barrel of a voice, and we all armed ourselves.

  The men mounted up, leaving me and Cas on foot, which suited me perfectly. This wasn't the sort of forest that made riding easy. I handed my pack off to one of the men, freeing my body to move fast. Someone had given me a quiver of their own arrows—Marron, perhaps—and I thanked him, though they weren't as well crafted as mine.

  "Something on your mind?" Cas asked, as we both moved ahead of the party.

  "What makes you say that?"

  "The look on your face." He ducked beneath a branch, and held it out of my way.

  "You've only known me a few days," I argued. "You don't know my expressions."

  "I read faces, Neva," he muttered, looming over me in the shadows of the trees. "And I can smell that bitter sweat scent that means you're nervous, see the way your gaze kept dropping when Evaron looked at you, the fluctuation of your pulse flickering in your throat..."

  I stared at him.

  "You don't want us to find the firebird," he said, giving me a gentle nudge in the middle of the back.

  Behind us, the men moved noisily. Evaron's blond hair gleamed like a halo, though he wore the same stark hunting leathers the rest of the men did.

  If Evaron dies, then all your problems go away...

  What?

  "Doesn't it seem wrong?" I blurted, falling into place beside Cas as we jogged through the trees, and trying to shake off the morbid thought. Maybe a part of me was more bloodthirsty than I thought.

  "It's the way of the world. The strong make the rules. And the king is strong."

  "It doesn't have to be. And I didn't take you for a man who just gave in." It was clear I couldn't fool Cas, but could he be an ally? "I had a dream last night..."

  I quickly told him about Galina, and everything she'd said, though I kept the details vague enough so he wouldn't be able to find the Well of Tears.

  "It knows we're coming for it. What if we kill the firebird and it upsets some sort of cataclysmic chain of events? What if the Darkness rises? People would die."

  "You had a dream, Neva," he said sharply. "A dream sent by a witch. What if she was lying? Witches aren't known for their benevolence. And why would she protect the firebird? What's in it for her?"

  He doesn't want to believe you...

  "She wants to protect the forest." My protest sounded weak, even to my ears.

  No. Galina wanted me to be her successor. That's what she really wanted. She'd spared my father nearly twenty years ago, so he could give birth to me.

  So why didn't she want us to hunt the firebird?

  Don't trust Galina. Kill her.

  "What is with the killing?" I muttered.

  Cas stopped in his tracks, a frown darkening his brow. "What do you mean?"

  I blushed. "I don't know. Nothing. I feel weird."

  "Weird, how?" His voice turned insistent. "I feel strange too. Kind of... hopeless."

  Our gazes met.

  "I want to kill everything," I blurted.

  "That's not normal." He drew his axe, and searched the woods around us. "Something's messing with our minds."

  And there was one creature that could do that.

  "Shit." I pressed my fingers to my temples.

  "The witch has to be close," he said. "Be on your guard. Any thoughts that don't seem normal, any slight wavering in your vision... We know she can pull you into a dream, but she might be able to lead us into a trap too. Have you got any salt? Or iron?"

  I withdrew my dagger. "Only this sort of iron."

  "Make sure you're touching it."

  Silence fell, unbroken by any sort of bird song. There were fewer evergreen trees here, only the stark bones of those whose leaves had fallen.

  And right in front of me was an enormous ash tree, which still held all of its leaves. Its base was almost as round as one of the tables in the inn.

  "That tree shouldn't have all of its leaves," I said, taking my dagger and scratching the bark of it.

/>   "Not an illusion," Cas said, but he looked up too. "And you're right. That's not a normal tree." He tugged a leaf off it, revealing a couple of black spots. "It's also sickening."

  "Do you think we should alert the men?"

  He glanced behind him. "I'll tell Evaron. Don't go anywhere."

  Then he jogged off, and left me alone.

  I circled the tree. The bark was old and gnarled, almost looking like a face in places. Pressing my hand to the bark brought a flash of vision: tree roots knotted deep and tight around something, as it silently screamed.

  Cut me down.

  I jerked my hand off the bark, closing my fingers into a fist. It felt as though something slimy coated my palm.

  "Vashta's ashes, what was that?" I whispered, to myself.

  What if this was one of the thousand trees that guarded us from the Darkness? What if Galina had been telling the truth?

  Cas returned, breathless from the run, and I knew he'd tried to hurry back. "What's wrong?"

  "Touch the tree," I insisted, "and tell me what you see."

  He reached out, pressing his palm flat against the bark, and—

  Looked at me.

  "A tree?"

  I didn't want to touch it again, but it had set me thinking. "I saw something when I touched it." I explained about the twisted shadow trapped by its roots. "I don't know what to think. I had my hand on my knife the entire time, so it wasn't witch-driven. If Galina's telling the truth, then we kill the firebird, upset the balance, and my village is going to be one of the first to be slaughtered by the Darkness. If she isn't..."

  Then the king died if we didn't kill the firebird, and Prince Rygil took the throne, no matter which way I looked at it.

  Cas took my hand, inspecting it. "There's no residue on your skin."

  "What if its not the witch sending us those thoughts?" I slowly looked up. "It wanted me to cut down the tree. There's only one reason something would want me to do that. Galina said the trees trap the Darkness."

  Even as I said the words, some sort of haze seemed to be clearing from my eyes. Everywhere I looked, the light seemed a little brighter.