by Raine Thomas
“You cannot have her, Deimos,” Eirik said, his voice low and his tone unbending. “She will lead me to the scroll.”
There was a pause. In the silence, Ariana focused intently on not varying her breathing pattern. She could feel the males’ gazes on her back.
“But she is so pure,” Deimos persisted in a hiss that made her skin crawl.
“I will have the power to bring as many females to you as you wish in a mere day or two,” Eirik said in level tones. “Believe me when I say that your patience now will more than reward itself.”
There was a tense pause. Ariana didn’t fully understand the relationship between the two males, and she couldn’t help but worry that Deimos would disregard Eirik’s orders and attack her. Sweat beaded on her brow as she focused on her breathing. Keeping it slow, steady and soft was a challenge she was sure she would fail as she pictured herself lying beneath Deimos as he devoured her. Somehow, though, she managed it.
“I want her,” the creature insisted.
Ariana envisioned him licking his lips after he spoke the words. She couldn’t stop her breath from hitching. Because she knew they sensed her awareness, she sighed and shifted to cover her reaction, pretending it had been a natural interruption to her sleep. Unfortunately, that meant she had to roll over and pretend to sleep while she faced them. Fortunately, it seemed to convince them that she was still oblivious.
“The females I acquire for you will be just as pure as she is,” Eirik assured him. “You have no idea the power I will command.”
“What kind of power?” Deimos asked feverishly.
“Enough that you will never want for anything again,” Eirik responded.
It was all he had confessed. But it was enough for Ariana to know that, while she was on the “right” path regarding what she had asked the sword to show her, she wasn’t on the path that fell in line with her own moral compass. She knew she was saving her life at the risk of many others.
Thus, as she hiked the mountain path with the Mercesti, her muscles aching from the added weight of Volarius’ sword, she desperately sought the courage that would allow her to refuse Eirik his goal.
In short, she sought the courage to die.
“Here is another one.”
Bertram turned at Tycho’s declaration and spotted the glittering bead his companion held up in the dwindling sunlight. Although they were used to resting during the daylight hours, they had been traveling by air as well as on the ground in search of the missing Kynzesti.
After spending some time interpreting the Waresti signals while he was trapped in the clearing with them, Bertram learned that the clues the warriors followed amounted to a strange assortment of beads and feathers. He hadn’t been able to find out why, but that didn’t matter. All he knew was that he and Tycho needed to use what wiles they had to get to the Kynzesti before the Waresti did. Their hope lay in the fact that they were both converted Waresti and Tycho’s tracking skills were practically unmatched. He could all but scent his quarry on the air.
“Excellent,” Bertram now said with a nod as he eyed the bead. “We are still on the correct path.” It had been his greatest concern when they flew. The light did catch the more reflective beads, which helped. But he knew once the sun set, they wouldn’t have even that to aid them.
“The Kynzesti appears to be headed into the mountains,” Tycho said. “I think he or she will seek shelter as darkness falls. Traveling in the darkness is generally considered unwise by most Estilorians.”
Again, Bertram nodded. Tycho was rarely wrong about such things. “Excellent,” he replied. “At this pace, we will have the Kynzesti to present to Eirick before the next sunrise.”
Tate huddled in the makeshift shelter she had found within the mountainside. It wasn’t so much a cave as an overhang with stone walls on either side of it. At best, it could be described as an alcove. She hadn’t wanted to risk burrowing into a more protective cave because she didn’t have the energy to contest with any animals that might already be living in it. Not to mention her fear that she wouldn’t be able to be located if she was too far out of sight.
Unfortunately, she was exposed. The temperature dropped significantly as night fell, and a biting wind swept over the mountain. Her makeshift skirt-cloak did nothing to protect her from the harsh cold. She curled into a ball and clutched the garment around her shoulders nonetheless. Because she didn’t have access to anything to make a fire, she couldn’t even try to warm herself that way. But she wasn’t about to leave the area just to try and find kindling or tinder. If it meant she would get to go back home, she would hunker down and suck it up for a few hours.
She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until he spoke.
“Why the bloody hell are you just lying here in the bloody cold?”
Opening an eye, she saw Sparky standing nearby in the bright moonlight with his arms crossed over his chest and a severe frown on his face. She sighed over the increasingly familiar flutter in her chest at the sight of him. Her embarrassment over his earlier mistreatment hadn’t abated. She wished she could convince her heart of the same.
“I’m waiting to be rescued,” she said, deliberately closing her eye. Although she knew she was dreaming, she also knew the two of them had more control over this interaction than typical dreams allowed. Maybe he’d get the hint and leave her alone.
“Who is it you believe will be rescuing you?”
Why was he back to that question? Frowning as she realized he wasn’t going to leave her alone, she opened her eyes and sat up. The wind lifted her skirt-cloak, making her shiver and clutch it closer with fingers that trembled from the cold. He didn’t seem bothered by the weather, she couldn’t help but notice. Although his arms were crossed and he wore only a tank top and pants, the wind didn’t even seem to touch him. She wished she could figure out how to control her own comfort level while in this realistic dream state.
“What’s it matter to you?” she asked. She had no reason to tell him anything.
His jaw flexed. “I did not save you in that bloody cave and that bloody pool only to have you kill yourself with stupidity.”
Her temper flared. She surged to her feet, intent on giving him a piece of her mind.
“While we have this blasted connection,” he continued, “I want to—”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she interrupted, glaring at him and gnashing her chattering teeth together. “I don’t want your bloody help. Go away. Consider your obligation—or whatever you call it—toward me fulfilled. You have nothing to worry about and no reason to continue harassing me.”
Silence sat between them for several heartbeats. She held his gaze without blinking, trying to will him to leave her alone. Neither of them backed down.
“Here,” he said eventually, reaching into the satchel he wore across his body. “This will help warm you, even if only in this godforsaken dream. Then I will leave you.”
He pulled out a small canteen, unscrewed the lid and handed it to her. She accepted it automatically, having been raised to appreciate good hospitality and thoughtfulness. After sniffing the canteen’s opening and finding the odor appealing, she cautiously took a sip. The beverage was rich and potent, and burned a bit on its way down, making her cough. She couldn’t quite tell if the burning was due to the drink’s temperature or its contents. What she could tell was that her chills were, indeed, easing.
“Thanks, Sparky,” she said, handing him back the canteen. “What is it?”
His eyes were intent on her face when he answered, “You really should have asked me before you drank it. It is a tea made primarily of alitheia leaves and cinnamon. And it will now put us on more equal footing.”
She blinked in confusion and realized it took a fraction of a second longer to open her eyes than it should have. The warmth that had spread throughout her body as the tea had its effect now had her limbs feeling weighted. Her knees loosened and she would have fallen if he hadn’t taken a step closer and grabbed her. Her m
ind quickly shifted as outside of her control as her body.
Despite a surge of alarm, she couldn’t help but notice that her attraction to him was also intensified by the drug he had just fed her. Her hands would have started exploring the muscles of his chest and abdomen if they hadn’t felt too heavy for her to move. She looked into his dark blue eyes and wished there was something in them besides triumph.
“I told you that you should not trust me, Beautiful,” he said.
Chapter 31
Tate knew about the alitheia bush from her Aunt Olivia’s teachings. It had been created millennia ago, before the separation of the planes, by the Scultresti, Alethia. If Tate remembered correctly, the Scultresti class had experimented with a way to influence other Estilorians without having the mental abilities of the Orculesti or Wymzesti. Envy over the abilities of other classes was a common issue among Estilorians.
In this case, Alethia created a bush whose leaves, when properly prepared, induced a state of unwavering honesty in the being who ingested them.
“Ooo, Sparky,” she said, the words slightly thick on her tongue. “You’ve been very, very bad.”
She knew she should berate herself for falling for his trick. Her father had taught her better than to accept a drink so blindly from someone she barely knew. But her thoughts were now so focused on Sparky and the fact that she was in his arms that she couldn’t get in another thought.
Realizing this in one tiny, as-yet unaffected part of her mind, she shoved against him, fighting to put some space between them. He released her. She was pleased when she managed to remain on her feet.
She needed to wake up.
“You will not fully awaken until the tea wears off within the dream state,” he said, making her realize she had spoken out loud. “I have influenced your subconscious. And the plant does not permit you any private thoughts.”
It didn’t? Good Lord, had she been standing there talking about how hot she thought he was? Was she doing that even now?
He frowned as the mortifying thoughts entered her head, but she couldn’t read his expression to know if she said anything.
“What is your name?”
“Tate.”
The word issued from her mouth without hesitation. She started trembling, but this time it wasn’t due to the cold. He was going to force her to tell him things that she knew she shouldn’t.
“Why did you drug me?” she asked. The words sounded small and insubstantial.
“Because you would not answer my questions.”
“You told me not to trust you.”
“And yet you drank the tea,” he pointed out. “What class of Estilorian are you?”
“Kynzesti.”
His frown eased into a less severe expression. “What is your primary ability?”
“Our powers aren’t yet fully understood. We can manipulate the elements.”
Now he looked fascinated. “Show me.”
She did, cupping her hands and forming a small pool of water. When he got closer to see what she was doing, she flung the results at him. It made her feel marginally better as he cursed and wiped his face. For some reason, he didn’t censure her for it.
“So you can tell when someone is lying and you can manipulate the elements. Anything else?”
“Not that we know.”
“Who is ‘we?’”
Her trembling increased. Her vision blurred with tears as she answered, “My family.”
She saw him processing this and trying to incorporate it into the world he knew. “Estilorians do not have families.”
The comment told her that he was a being experienced enough to know quite a bit about human society, details she knew weren’t shared with most Estilorians. Even as this thought occurred to her, she tried to clear her head. She’d been taught from an early age how to block against mental intrusions, but this was different and her efforts were ineffective.
“Some of us do,” she found herself saying.
“But families are a human societal norm.” He studied her face. She was rather proud of the fact that she managed to keep from responding. Evidently not getting the answers he sought through her expression, he asked, “How long ago did you transition to this plane?”
“I didn’t.”
“What?” He was back to frowning. “How did you get here?”
“I was born here.”
Under other circumstances, it might have been amusing to see the first expression of something besides anger or irritation cross his features. He looked dumbfounded. But Tate was too upset to be humored. She knew what was coming and hated him at that moment for forcing this on her.
“Tell me everything about you and this ‘family.’ Who are your parents and how did they conceive you?”
A tear trailed down her cheek. She wished she could command her limbs to move. “My father is Caleb and my mother is Skye. They conceived me in the manner humans have always done it. They had sex.”
If her words shocked him, he didn’t show it. “I have never heard of your mother. Is she a human?”
“Half-human. Half-Corgloresti.”
He blinked at that. “Who are your grandparents?”
“Kate and Saraqael.”
“How did Saraqael conceive with this human, Kate?”
Even in her mentally nebulous state, she realized that he knew her grandfather. “He used the power of a scroll while with my grandmother on the human plane in an attempt to save her life. It required a physical joining. The power of the ritual killed him and left my grandmother impregnated.”
The questions continued, as did her tears and festering anger. He seemed unconcerned with both. She told him about her siblings and cousins. She told him about her mother and her aunts and their abilities. And she told him about her father and her uncles.
“Your uncle is archigos Gabriel?”
His tone was neutral, but she realized his posture had changed and he no longer looked so confident. She felt a surge of satisfaction over that and sought to knock him off his peg just a bit more.
“Not only is he my uncle, but when I get back home and tell him what you’ve done, he’ll hunt you down and kick your ass.”
“Sir, I think we have a problem.”
Harold looked up at the Waresti who spoke. Because they had landed in a wide and open field, it was safe enough to speak in whispers without the fear of being overheard by a Mercesti hiding nearby. The sun was also nearly fully set, making speech easier than hand signals. “What is it, Apollo?”
“I came across a dark blue feather that resembles those we have been collecting. It was flattened beneath the boot print of a male. There were sets of prints made by two different males in addition to those likely made by Tate.”
The news hit hard. “How fresh were the prints?”
“The males who made them are about an hour ahead of us.” Apollo glanced toward the sky. “Do you think we have a couple of Mercesti on our hands?”
That was impossible to tell by merely looking at boot prints, but Harold’s intuition aided him where his other senses wouldn’t. “Yes,” he replied as he called forth his wings. “And we’d better fly faster than the wind at our back, because I think they’re after Tate.”
Tiege felt strange. As the sky darkened from orange to violet, his connection to Tate faded. He figured she had fallen asleep. Because it was no longer an essential element to their search, he didn’t worry about that too much.
Shortly after the connection faded, however, he felt as though he was in a waking stupor.
“I need to land for a minute,” he said to Ini-herit over his shoulder.
The elder made a gesture to Clara Kate and they all found a spot to land. The moment he was free of the flight harness, Tiege fell straight to the ground. He couldn’t control his muscles.
Ini-herit reached down to help him up.
“Are you okay, Tiege?” C.K. asked, reaching out to steady him, as well.
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking
his head as if to clear it. That actually seemed to help a bit. He managed to remain standing without their continued assistance. “I feel…off.”
Ini-herit reached out and touched Tiege’s chest. Silver light flowed from the elder’s hand. Although on one level Tiege felt more rested and no longer had any lingering discomfort from the flight harness, the weird feeling of mental nebulousness remained.
“Thanks, but that didn’t seem to fix whatever this is,” Tiege said. He rubbed his eyes, which suddenly stung. “What the hell?”
“You must be funneling what your sister is experiencing,” Ini-herit surmised.
“But she’s sleeping,” Tiege said with a frown. “In fact, this…well, whatever it is, didn’t start until our connection faded.”
Ini-herit and C.K. exchanged glances. “Maybe she’s having a vivid nightmare,” C.K. guessed.
Tiege couldn’t argue, as he had no idea what caused the unusual sensation. His chest felt too tight and an unceasing sense of panic rested at the base of his skull. But it all felt dampened beneath a layer of false comfort. It was beyond a doubt the most baffling experience of his life. He didn’t know what to make of it.
But what he did know was that his sister was in trouble, and it was even more urgent than he’d thought. He opened his mouth to say they needed to get back into the air.
And then closed it as they were suddenly surrounded by Waresti.
Alexius and his team of Waresti had taken a couple of wrong turns on their hunt for Tiege, archigos Ini-herit and Clara Kate, but they managed to make up the time in the air using their knowledge of air currents to aid them. Thus, Alexius had the trio in his sights even as they went in for an unexpected landing.
He now caught and held archigos Ini-herit’s gaze as he and his soldiers surrounded them. “We’ve been trying to find you,” he said in greeting. His gaze shifted to the two Kynzesti. “You have a number of concerned family members deeply worried about your well-being.”
