by Raine Thomas
Finally, they returned. Ini-herit’s expression hadn’t changed, but he said, “It appears I will be traveling with you.”
“We’ll need flight harnesses for you and Soph,” C.K. said to Tiege.
“I have some at my cottage,” Quincy responded in a resigned voice. He flew forward and passed Sophia to Ini-herit. “I’lal be right back.”
“Good.” C.K. said as he flew off. Then she caught Tiege’s gaze. “If we’re going to get any kind of head start before they chase us down, you’ll have to do your thing.”
Tiege understood. Nodding, he focused on opening up his second power…the power of illusion. He’d already done so at home to keep his parents from catching him, but he needed to extend it to include those who would now be traveling with him. Sweat broke out on his brow as he concentrated. Quincy returned with the flight harnesses and his satchel before he finished.
When Tiege was done, he returned his focus to those around him. “Okay. We’re covered.”
“If we leave now,” Quincy said, “there’s no turning back.”
They all exchanged looks. Tiege sat tensely as they came to their individual decisions. In the end, C.K. took a harness from Quincy and tossed it to Ini-herit.
“Buckle up,” she said. “We’re going to get Tate.”
Chapter 12
The cave had been entirely underground, Tate realized as she began to explore the area. The exterior was little more than a ten-foot hump in the ground leading to the large cave entrance. That hump was liberally covered by foliage. She wouldn’t have even known the cave was there if she hadn’t emerged from it herself.
Getting away from the cloying darkness of the cave was both a relief and absolutely terrifying. Her father’s warning of her being too young and not having enough experience to venture away from home resounded in her head.
I’m sorry, Daddy, she thought, though it did her little good now.
In an effort to give herself more confidence as she made her away on unsteady legs into the forest, she clutched her nunchucks in her hands. Every noise made her start. Since she wore her torn skirt as a sort of cloak around her neck to keep it handy, the fluffy fabric billowed up with every jerky movement. She knew she looked ridiculous, but that was hardly an issue right then.
She decided to venture to the left of the cave, as the trees were less dense in that direction. Although she had the ability to create water using her elemental power, she couldn’t create much more than enough to drink, which she had already done. She wanted to find enough water to bathe in and wash her clothes.
The desire to be clean wasn’t just a vanity, though that had a little to do with it. She knew very well that animals and other predators would scent her more if she reeked. So, as she walked, she scanned the forest for possible aid.
To say her Aunt Olivia and Uncle James were nature enthusiasts was like saying Tate currently found herself in a little predicament. Her relatives loved the outdoors. Their home was surrounded by trees with a shrub-lined path leading to the central training paddock. In fact, their powers were nature-based.
Since her Aunt Olivia had been her primary teacher growing up, Tate learned a great many things about plants and wildlife. So when she reached a large clearing and spotted some lemon balm plants, she almost shrieked with joy.
Bending down, she picked as many of the lemon-scented leaves as she could stuff into her pants pockets. She had to be careful when she stood up not to lose her pants, which were currently being held up by her weapons harness in an impromptu belt. It wouldn’t be comfortable for long, but she just needed to get to water.
She got even luckier about an hour later. As the sun began lightening the sky, she found a small grove of Sapindus Mukorossi trees. Their yellowish-brown fruit, known as soap nuts, were ideal for creating cleansers. She added those to her pockets with the leaves.
Although she shifted her eyes in every direction, she failed to find anything edible as she walked. At the moment, her lingering body aches overrode any hunger pangs, but she knew she’d soon need food. Unfortunately, she was moving so slowly that even had she been armed with a sharp blade, she wouldn’t have been able to successfully hunt for meat. Thus, she prayed for edible plants or berries.
The sun continued to rise and cross the sky as she plodded on. In almost direct opposition, Tate’s spirits sank. Exhausted, she stumbled through yet another clearing. Then she heard a sound that gave her enough energy to run. When she broke through the trees, a huge smile lit her face.
A hot spring.
Almost giddy, Tate started undressing. She considered tossing aside her useless bra and panties since they were both torn beyond repair, but then she figured she might need the cloth for something and decided she’d just carry them in her pants pockets. So she added them to the pile with the rest of her clothes.
She removed the lemon balm leaves and set them to the side in a pile. Then she filled each of her socks with some soap nuts, using a rock to crush them. After a brief hunt, she found a slightly rounded piece of bark about the size of a serving platter and filled it with some of the steaming water from the spring. Securing the end of the sock containing the crushed soap nuts, she set it in the bark-bowl to steep. She then took the other soap nuts a short distance away to a shallow part of the hot spring. Once there, she got to work scrubbing her clothes.
Thirty minutes later, when she decided the clothes were as clean and unscented as they could get, she had a whole new appreciation for the Lekwuesti and their abilities. Her arms ached and sweat dripped down her face.
She laid her clothes on a large rock so they could dry. Leaning against the rock as the sky began softening in color with the sunset, she removed the beads and feathers she wore in her hair. One by one, she set each hair decoration in a divot on the rock’s surface, making sure the beads weighed the feathers down. It took her several minutes to get everything out, but she had to wash her hair. Shaking out her curls once they were free of adornment, she walked over to gather some of the lemon balm leaves and the bowl containing her crushed soap nut mixture.
The bath was the best she’d ever had. Pushing aside the fear and anxiety that served as her companion, she soaked in the hot spring and washed and shampooed herself with the lemon balm and soap nut liquid she had created. To be extra sure the bad smell and the grime was completely cleansed away, she washed her hair and body twice.
She floated in the water until her skin pruned. Finally, she got out and made her way over to her still-damp clothes, placing the leftover soap nuts and lemon balm leaves in a couple of pockets for future use. Then she decided she had to create a more functional outfit.
The pants were easy enough since the length of both legs had largely been spared by whatever had torn the rest of her clothes. Using a strip of fabric torn from her many-layered skirt, she created a belt. It worked pretty well. She realized she had somehow managed to lose weight, as her pants—which hadn’t been very high-waisted in the first place—slid lower on her hips than they used to and her hip bones were more prominent than usual. Wondering just how long she had been in that cave, she shrugged it off and got to work tearing the rest of the seams of her purple, lavender, dark blue and lime green-swirled tank top.
The straps of the top were useless, and with both sides having been ripped, she was essentially left with a long band of fabric with a hole in the middle. She had little choice but to tie the tank top length-wise across her torso. After tying it securely in front of her and then twisting it around her body so that the ties were in the back, she decided it would have to do. Fortunately, she was chesty enough that the garment would stay in place without too much trouble.
She considered her socks and boots and decided it would be a bad idea to start hiking in them while they were wet. Her feet would get terrible blisters. Instead, she walked around the area until she found a spot beneath some bushes where she could rest and stay out of sight from any predators that might come by during the night.
Her s
tomach made rude noises, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten. But the idea of hunting for food held far less appeal than merely going to sleep. So as the sky darkened from gold to orange in anticipation of the coming night, she gathered the moist material from her skirt to use as a pillow. Then she clutched her nunchucks in her fists and closed her eyes.
A soft sound of surprise woke Zachariah from a hard sleep.
He was on his feet with his tomahawk in-hand before his eyes fully opened. With his brain still cocooned in exhaustion, he barely registered the fact that his movements hadn’t jarred Nyx awake and that the fading sunlight shining into the rocky alcove wasn’t bothering his eyes like it usually did just after waking. Adrenaline cleared the brain-fog, however, and he carefully assessed the threat.
Standing only a few feet away was a female. She stood bathed in the light of the sunset, looking around the cave with intense curiosity, seemingly unconcerned by the male in front of her holding a deadly weapon. The fact that she didn’t grow alarmed at the sight of him confused him.
He realized that she was rather tall for a female and very nicely formed. The purple pants she wore tied with a lime green belt sat low on the feminine arcs of her hips, and the colorful band of fabric covering her upper body had no straps and ended inches above her belly button, providing quite the view of her remarkably toned shoulders, upper arms and midsection.
The unexpected interest flashing through his mind had him frowning. Then he focused on her hair. He felt himself lowering his weapon as he took it all in.
An abundance of curls sprang out of her head in some kind of ponytail. They went up from the crown of her head in a thick mass and cascaded down to between her shoulder blades. Accenting the explosion of curls were vibrant feathers and what appeared to be beads of various colors, sizes and shapes. But she hardly needed any extra coloring in her hair.
Some of her curls were a rich brown. But many others were spirals of light blue or deep blue-green or even what appeared to be a sparkling dark blue. Yes, that was exactly right. When she moved her head, the sunlight actually glittered off the dark blue curls.
Even as he blinked in amazement over that, she turned her striking, deep blue-green eyes to him. Her lush lips curved. His thoughts turned nebulous.
Shaking himself from whatever spell she’d just cast on him, he once again raised his weapon, watching her warily. And he asked the most pertinent question.
“What the hell are you?” he demanded.
Chapter 13
“What am I?” Tate repeated, humor in her tone.
The large, muscular male in front of her, dressed in an unremarkable gray tank, gray pants and black boots, looked disgruntled. His dark blue eyes and markings identified him as a Gloresti, and between that and his size and gruffness, he reminded her a bit of her father. But where her father had dark, curly hair, this Gloresti’s hair was blond and looked as though it had been hacked off with a blunt blade. It didn’t appear to have been brushed lately, either…though, since she’d obviously awakened him, she could understand that.
“You heard me,” he said.
She smiled. “Well, it appears to me that I’m the girl of your dreams.”
His frown intensified. She could see he was trying to reason out what she’d just said. While he puzzled over it, she glanced at his feet. What she had thought was just a shadow cast from the rear of the small shelter finally took form to her gaze.
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed with wide eyes. “Is that a kragen? It’s huge!”
She rushed forward, forgetting about the male in her enthusiasm. She hadn’t gone more than two steps before he stepped in her path, holding his gleaming tomahawk at the ready. Pulling back abruptly when she almost ran into him, she gave him a serious glower.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “I just want to see it better. I’ve never seen a kragen before.”
He didn’t reply. Merely stared back at her with hostility in his gaze.
She sighed in irritation. “Fine.” Finding this all a waste of a good dream, she shifted with the intent to head toward the entrance to the shelter.
“Wait,” he said.
When she stopped and caught his eye, she realized he had surprised himself with the command. Although she found that realization rather funny, she crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Yeah?”
He seemed to war with himself over whether to reply. At last, he asked, “If this is a dream, why does it feel so real?”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Does it?”
“Do not be contrary. You know it to be true. I can feel the warmth of the sunlight. The weight of my weapon is the same now as usual. I can smell lemon on your skin…”
When he trailed off and looked discomfited by his own words, she almost smiled again. “I really don’t know why this is so intense. But I do know it’s a dream, because I didn’t sleep with you last night.” Her face flamed with embarrassment when she realized what she’d just said. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice.
“How did you find me?”
“I don’t know,” she said again. “I don’t even know who you are.”
He considered that, giving her another thorough once-over. Something about that intent study had her heart picking up in pace. Then he asked, “Why are your eyes and markings such an unusual color?”
She tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“There are no classes of Estilorian with your coloring, that is what I mean.”
Blinking at that, she considered his words, spoken in the formal manner of an Estilorian who was unfamiliar with humans and the use of contractions, as well as his unkempt appearance. Her eyes fell on the satchel not far from the sleeping kragen. She belatedly considered the fact that Gloresti generally only traveled to the mainland to pair with transitioned Corgloresti, and there certainly wasn’t an uninhabited Corgloresti form lying around.
Weighing all this, she once again caught his gaze and asked, “Just how long have you been away from the stronghold?”
She watched his reaction and knew an answer wouldn’t be forthcoming. It was as though a wave of cold blasted from him. Rather than back away from him, she rolled her eyes.
“Fine,” she said again.
Then she closed her eyes as tight as she could and concentrated. Surely she could will herself out of this boredom.
“What are you doing?”
Without opening her eyes, she answered, “I’m trying to wake up. This has been a blast and all, but you obviously don’t want company. I’m just trying to get out of your hair.”
A rustling sound had her cracking one eye. He had reached up to touch his hair. Unable to stop herself, she snorted in laughter.
“It wasn’t literal, doofus. Geez.”
“What makes you think my name is Doofus?” he wondered.
Giving up, she burst into hysterical giggles, bending over at the waist when she laughed hard enough to make her sides hurt.
“What are you—are you all right?”
The fact that he didn’t recognize her humor or seem to know what to do about it merely made her laugh harder. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She clutched her waist and gasped for breath as he approached and tentatively touched her shoulder.
It was as if a sizzle of charged energy flashed through her.
Her laughter cutting off abruptly, Tate once again stood straight and stepped away from him. Now her heart raced for a reason other than fear…something she didn’t quite understand.
He watched her with his potent eyes, seeming to sense that he had managed to change her mood and behavior. “It seems you are all right.”
“I…” She wasn’t sure she could answer that truthfully. Fortunately she didn’t have to.
A flick of Nyx’s massive tail woke him.
Zachariah opened his eyes and looked around the alcove, disoriented. One moment he had been standing and staring at the compelling female after witnessing her strange behavior, and the next he was openi
ng his eyes to an empty chamber.
Ignoring the vague sense of disappointment he experienced, he double-checked to make sure she wasn’t hiding somewhere and then nodded. “Right.” For good measure, he added, “Blasted dream.”
But as he again settled against Nyx and forced himself to go back to sleep, he couldn’t quite ignore the fact that the air now smelled faintly of lemons.
“You believe that Tiege left in search of Tate, and that the others just went along with him?”
Caleb rubbed his fingers tiredly across the bridge of his nose before answering Jabari’s question. They were gathered in his and Skye’s home, which boasted a large living area intended for socializing. Every elder, commander and second commander was present.
Less than an hour ago, they discovered the illusions that kept them from knowing Tiege and the others were gone. Caleb had gone to his son’s room for the fourth time that day, finally deciding to wake him so that he could talk to Skye. When Caleb reached for his son’s shoulder, however, his hand passed right through it.
James and Olivia discovered a similar illusion of Sophia working in her laboratory. Gabriel and Amber ultimately found the illusion of Quincy, Clara Kate and Ini-herit sitting around the table in Quincy’s cottage conversing about baseball.
“I only know that last night, he insisted she was still alive,” Caleb said at last. He felt Skye squeeze his hand. They had already communicated about the previous night’s encounter. He could only love her all the more for understanding why he hadn’t told her sooner. “He wanted to go after her.”
He didn’t add that Tiege begged his father to go with him only to be denied.
