by Keri Arthur
From the next room—the one that had initially been ours—came the harsh bark of conversation.
“The sheets are cold,” someone commented. “Looks like they’ve been gone a while.”
“Window is open,” another said. “It’s possible they heard us coming and escaped out of it.”
“We would have spotted them if they had,” came a more authoritative tone. “Check the premises and IDs.”
Kaiden’s arm snaked around my waist and pulled me closer. This time, his body hummed with tension rather than desire. “Act frightened when they enter,” he whispered. “And under no circumstances flame.”
“The former isn’t going to be too hard.” The latter, however, was an entirely different matter.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on keeping my breathing slow and even. But it was a hard task when the heavy footsteps of the Mareritt echoed across the silence. Then, with little warning, the door was forced open and the stink of them filled the room.
“You two, wake up.”
I squeaked in fright, a sound that wasn’t entirely faked. Kaiden squeezed me briefly, then sat up. “What’s this? What’s going on? Is there a problem?”
His voice was high and held a trembling note.
“Who’s in the bed with you?” came the response.
I shifted around to face him but kept the blanket up. Not so much to cover my body, but to hide my hands and the heat beginning to press at my fingertips.
There were three in the room, but only two gripped weapons. They were ready for—and wanting—trouble. Their expressions didn’t alter when they saw me, nor did their stance relax. But then, if they were here looking for escapees, they were well aware that one of them had Mareritt blood.
“Name?” the one in charge said.
“Kai Jenkins,” Kaiden stammered.
His hand slid across the top of mine and gently captured my fingers, a warning more than an offer of support.
The officer glanced at someone beyond the doorway. “They in the book?”
“Yes.”
“And registered at the gate?”
There was a pause, then, “Yes.”
He held out his hand. “Scanner.”
The device was handed to him. The officer activated it and then held it out. Kaiden dutifully pressed his thumb onto the glass. Blue light swept it, and after a moment, a green light flashed.
The officer grunted and handed the scanner back to the person beyond the door. His gaze returned to us and there was no disguising his distaste as he snapped, “Stay in the room until morning, or you’ll both face the consequences.”
With that, he turned and marched out. The other two followed, and the door slammed shut. Kaiden released a relieved-sounding breath, then dropped back onto the mattress and turned to face me. “I told you we’d be fine.”
He was so close that all I could feel was the warmth of his breath and all I could see was the aqua of his eyes. Awareness glimmered in those depths. Awareness and desire.
“We’re hardly out of the woods yet.”
I curled my fingers in an effort to restrain the need to reach for him—to caress the lean but powerful planes of his body. To follow with touch or tongue the smattering of dark hair down his abs to the delights hidden by the blankets.
Now was not the time to be distracted by temptation.
“And never will be when we’re in a Mareritt town,” he said softly, “but I think we’ll be all right tonight.”
“Unless the manager says something.”
“He got good coin for the room—he won’t jeopardize that unless absolutely necessary.”
“I do like the surety with which you make these proclamations.”
“Have I been wrong yet?”
“Well, no, but we’ve only been together for little more than forty-eight hours.”
“And yet it feels far longer.”
Again there was a note of wonder in his voice, but it was the desire visible in his eyes and the heat emanating from his body that had my pulse rate skipping into overdrive.
“In a good way, I hope.”
It was lightly said, but I couldn't help the husky undertone. I was no stranger to either desire or need, but this was something I’d never felt before.
“In the only way that matters.” He kissed my nose, a featherlike caress that had those deeper hungers quivering in anticipation. “Go to sleep, Nara. I’ll wake you if anything dramatic happens.”
Something within danced at his use of my name. “Aren’t we supposed to be sharing watch?”
“Yes, but I’ve not been frozen, thawed, and then dropped into a world turned upside down.” Amusement and concern creased the corners of his eyes. “You may not be inclined to admit it, but I can feel your weariness. Now that the immediate danger is over, it’s better if you rest and recover.”
“I’m kin, and more than capable of surviving a night or two without—”
“Then think of it like this—we need you at full strength and flame ready if I’m proven wrong and we have to make a very hasty escape from this place.”
A smile twitched my lips. “I have a feeling that no matter how much I argue, you’re determined to have your way on this matter.”
“A major fault of mine, as you’ll no doubt discover the longer we’re together. Go to sleep. We’ve a long way to travel tomorrow, and no soft bed waiting at the end of it.”
“Another fun day, in other words.”
“The only thing that could make it better is rain.”
I groaned. “You had to say that, didn’t you? The weather gods will now think you’ve issued a challenge and will rise to meet it.”
He laughed softly. “Which might not be a bad move. The Mareritt are less likely to hunt in inclement weather.”
“Inclement weather doesn’t bother drakkons.”
“No, but we’ll be spending a good portion of the day traveling through forests, and that’ll restrict their ability to see us. Now shut up and close your eyes, woman.”
I chuckled softly but nevertheless obeyed. And even though I was far too aware of his heat, his closeness, and the fact that he watched me, I slept.
We had little trouble leaving Husk the following morning. There were plenty of Mareritt out on the street, and while a few of them stopped and checked us, Kaiden’s identity held.
Even so, relief surged once the blood-colored gates were well and truly behind us. Unfortunately, that only meant we were in the midst of the fish production zone, and the stench was horrendous.
I held the bunch of orange clamberer we’d picked as we were leaving the tavern close to my nose, but it wasn’t doing a whole lot against the sheer density of the fish scent.
“How long before we get out of this area?”
“Another half hour or so,” he said, “but looking at those skies, we may have bigger problems.”
I glanced up. The gathering clouds were dark and tinged with green—a sure sign that an ice storm was headed our way.
“Do you think it’s a natural or Mareritt-produced storm?”
He shrugged, a movement I felt given how closely we were pressed together. “It doesn’t really matter either way, as we can’t risk running the skid through it.”
I frowned. “Why not? It’s got a cover, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, but a violent enough storm will tear through the material in a matter of seconds. Besides, while the skid’s batteries can last two days, fighting against that storm in combination with our weight will drain them faster.”
“There’s no town between Husk and our next stop?”
He shook his head. “Not without going too far out of our way.”
I looked ahead. The land was rising again, and both rocks and trees were more prevalent. A deeper line of darkness lined the horizon—the Jantingle Forest, which was where Kaiden had said we’d be staying the night. Above the forest rose the Red Ochre Mountains, a range I was familiar with and one that divided Nyssia from West Laminium. Ac
cording to Kaiden, there were two means of getting through those mountains without going over—the old and very winding pass that had existed in my day and was now little used, or the tunnel that had been completed a hundred years ago.
We were currently headed for the pass, though it wasn't without problems. While it offered plenty of hollows and rocky outcrops in which to hide, there were now three checkpoints to contend with. The tunnel only had a checkpoint at this end, but there was nowhere to hide once you were inside, and the Mareritt had already proven their willingness to destroy their tunnels if needed. At least the pass wouldn't collapse as easily.
“What are the chances of finding shelter anywhere nearby?” I asked.
“Pretty poor.”
“Then you’d better rattle the cobwebs out of this thing and get us into that forest.”
“We’re already pushing it.” Even so, he pressed the control stick forward, and the skid gained a fraction more speed.
But the wind had picked up, its cold bite cutting through the rough wool of my shirt and freezing my skin. There was nothing I could do about it. Not until we were out of the production zone and free from prying eyes.
By the time we were, the skid was being sent sideways by the force of the wind. I wrapped my arms around Kaiden’s waist and raised the fires within just enough to send the heat running through my veins into his spine, warming him as much as I could without burning.
“Will we make it to the forest?” The wind’s howl was so fierce I had to shout.
“You’d better hope so.” His words barely reached me. “Those clouds suggest it’s developing into a razor storm.”
A razor storm was one of the worst—instead of being mere chunks of ice, they were long, thin daggers that could slice open the skin of human or animal alike in an instant. The only creatures somewhat immune were drakkons, and even their scales couldn’t withstand a lengthy assault.
I kept my gaze on the tree line ahead and fervently hoped we made it there before the storm hit.
We didn’t.
The ice began to fall when we were still a mile or so out from the forest. It bounced off our heads and the skid’s body with equal abandon, and it rather felt like someone was throwing stones at us. But we were racing toward the deeper green clouds as much as the forest now, and the nearer we got to both, the harder the ice began to fall.
Then it became daggers.
They hit with deadly force, slicing through clothes, boots, and down into flesh with the ease of any blade. As red stained our wet clothes, I called to my flames and raised a hand, letting my fire flow over our heads and the skid’s engines, forming a shield hot enough to ensure it was rain that hit us, not daggers.
“Dangerous,” Kaiden shouted.
“Not as much as the storm—it only takes one ice dagger to hit the right spot, and we’re both dead.”
A point he didn’t argue—not only because it was true, but because it also applied to the skid. And without it, we were in real trouble.
We raced on. The ice continued to slice all around us, destroying what little vegetation there was by the roadside. Thunder rumbled overhead, a warning the danger was far from over.
But the trees were close now... five minutes, if that, and we’d be in them and safe.
It was then I heard the bellow.
I looked up. Saw the flash of red in the sky and the spray of fire as she swept toward us. I swore and punched more fire up through my shield; the two streams met and, for an instant, did nothing more than roil around each other. Then the drakkon swept through them, causing droplets of flame to rain down amongst the ice. She bellowed again and adjusted the position of her wings, her legs stretched out before her, her long and deadly nails gleaming like white ice as she readied to rent and tear.
That’s when I saw the chunky addition on her leg band—a camera. They’d added a damn camera.
While my shield might prevent them from seeing our identities, it didn’t really matter. They now knew their fugitives were racing toward the Red Ochre Mountains, and it was far too late to do anything about it.
I drew on more fire, formed it into a leash, and flicked it toward the drakkon. She saw it at the last minute and banked sideways; the leash missed her legs, but in banking, she exposed too much of her wing to the ice daggers. Holes began to appear in the delicate membrane, and she screamed, the sound one of fury and frustration. Blue fire flicked across the leg band, and with another bellow, the drakkon rose, her wings pumping as she endeavored to rise above the worst of the storm. I hoped she made it.
Two minutes later, we hit the shadows of the forest. The ice still slashed down, but the thick canopy overhead reduced the daggers to icy splinters that didn’t have the power to puncture our clothes, let alone skin.
I snuffed out my fire, and the pounding in my head instantly jumped into focus, its force eye-watering. I rubbed my temples wearily; it didn’t help a whole lot. My fire muscles certainly needed strengthening—but that was only natural if I’d been frozen for two hundred years.
The skid’s rattling was fierce, and the note of its engine didn’t sound right. I leaned close to Kaiden’s ear—which was bloody thanks to a gash on the side of his head—and said, “What’s wrong with the skid?”
“Several daggers pierced the metal—I think they’ve either cut power lines or damaged some batteries.”
“Will you be able to fix it?”
“Until we can find somewhere safe to stop, that’s an unknown.”
“Is there anywhere safe in this forest?”
He hesitated. “There’s an old water mill about two miles ahead. It was abandoned some time ago, but we’ve used it occasionally.”
“We” being the resistance, obviously. “Why do I get the impression it’s a place you’d rather avoid?”
“Because it’s an obvious stop point and with that drakkon spotting us—”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. The ice would have shredded us if you hadn’t raised the shield.”
“I know, but it just makes things harder from here on in.”
“It was going to get harder anyway.” He shrugged. “My preference would be to push on as long as possible and get to the foothills. The place is riddled with old caves, a number of which are used as supply warehouses. We might even find another vehicle in one.”
“If you know about the caves, the Mareritt are likely to.”
“This is our land, not theirs, remember. They may have occupied it for two hundred years, but they haven’t bothered exploring the breadth of it.”
Because Arleeon was nothing more than a place they farmed and used; it was not somewhere they ever wanted to live.
“Given you know this area and the skid’s capabilities far better than me,” I said, “I’ll go with whatever you decide.”
He nodded, and we continued on. The ferocity of the storm eased at around noon, and the ice was replaced by rain. Moisture dripped all around us, silver in the shadowy light of the forest, soaking our already wet clothes. It made me colder than I’d ever thought possible, but I couldn’t risk raising my internal temperature again. Not so much because of the ache in my head, but because it was very possible that, now the ice storm had eased, the drakkons would be up and searching. And while they wouldn’t see my inner flames, they might well sense my heat trail. The larger drakkons certainly could—although that ability was part and parcel of the link between drakkon and kin. It was possible these drakkons had not only been bred down in size but also abilities.
The day wore on; the road climbed steadily through the trees, and the skid’s rattling became so bad my entire body vibrated. Kaiden didn’t appear worried, so I tried not to be, even though a very definite burning smell rose from the battery area of the vehicle now.
Dusk came and went—noticeable only by the deepening of the shadows already surrounding us. Kaiden flicked a switch and a pale light pierced the gloom ahead, highlighting the road and the trees that were gat
hering ever closer.
“Is that wise?” I asked. “There might be drakkons—”
“Wrong era,” he said, amusement evident. “Our drakkons generally don’t fly at night. Besides, I need to find the track that leads up into the caves.”
“Won’t the skids leave a noticeable trail if we go off-road?”
“With this rain? Unlikely.”
I hoped he was right, because the last thing we needed was to be trapped in some damp old cave. It’d make it all too easy for the Mareritt to simply call up one of their ice or earth mages and lock us in. The shudder that ran through me was due as much to old fears as the chill creeping through my veins. Which was frustrating—why could I remember getting lost in a cold, slime-and-spider-filled tunnel thanks to my brothers, and yet not remember the events of the day that had not only changed my life, but that of Arleeon itself?
The pale light eventually spotlighted a break in the trees on the left edge of the road ahead. Kaiden slowed and carefully eased the skid onto what looked to be some sort of animal track. The going was tight, and more than one tree branch skidded across the machine's body and our legs. But, eventually, the trees gave way to barren ground and then to steep slabs of stone as we moved deeper into the foothills.
Finally, the light shone on what was little more than an open slash in the mountain’s face. Lace moss fell across the wound like a green waterfall, all but hiding what might lie beyond. Kaiden carefully edged the skid through the gap.
The cavern beyond was cold, dank, and far longer than it was wide. The light startled the disk wings roosting within; they shrieked and rose in a black cloud that raced for the exit. I tucked my head into Kaiden’s back until the last of them had gone. I wasn’t particularly scared of disk wings, but I didn’t want one of the leathery little creatures stuck in my hair, either.
Kaiden didn’t stop. Instead, he pushed the skid on, following the twisting and ever-narrowing tunnel until there were barely inches between our legs and the walls.
But just as I was about to question his sanity, the tunnel opened into a secondary cavern. The skid’s light caught the stalactites high above us, sending a crystal-like spray of color across the walls and highlighting the various boxes and sacks that sat on the rock shelf running along the left side of the cavern. Some of those boxes looked old enough to have come from my timeline, which didn’t leave me with a lot of hope about the state of the contents inside.
