She spun around as the second squirrel fell to the ground and Kyrrin pulled his sword from it. She could see blood dripping from its enormous teeth, teeth that were far sharper than any plant-eater's should have been. She had heard rumor that the forest did not like intruders.
A leaf stroked her calf.
"Run!" she screamed.
They charged down the pathway, Kyrrin's sword swinging whenever a creature got too close, Arriyah's constant funneling of power into the charms keeping the vines at bay.
"We're almost there!" Kyrrin shouted. Arriyah looked where he pointed. He was right. She could see a light breaking through the trees ahead.
Then Kyrrin went down, his sword wrenched from his hand by a root as leafy vines gripped his torso and pulled him away.
"Kyrrin!" She held out her fistful of charms, crying out the words and pulling as much energy from the ground as she could. The root dropped Kyrrin's sword, and she snatched it up, hacking at the vines like a woodsman until Kyrrin was free. Then she grabbed his arm, used all her strength to yank him to his feet, and took off running, leaving his helmet behind in the swarming vines.
They were so close. Only twenty feet—
The roots crossing the path writhed like snakes; they leapt over them.
Only ten feet—
Twigs shot off tree branches, soaring toward their heads; they ducked.
Only five feet—
Another giant rodent charged from behind them; they dove forward and landed outside the trees.
The rodent hissed, its teeth bared and its eyes wild. The plant life slowly withdrew, the rodent followed, and a minute later, the forest had returned to its dormant state.
Only then did Arriyah notice the rain pouring down on them, and she couldn't help laughing in relief.
"C'mon," Kyrrin said, getting to his feet and reaching out a hand for Arriyah. Her skin was warm and damp from the cool rain. "Let's find some shelter and get you out of this deluge."
Kyrrin found them a cave near an old river bed, started a small fire, and made a modest soup out of a few things he had brought with him.
They sat at the mouth of the cave, watching the rain pour down as dusk settled. Arriyah breathed in deeply, soaking in the smell of the rain and the wet earth. Her sense of smell wasn't her only sense feeling heightened. Kyrrin sat nearby without touching her, but she was incredibly aware of how close his thigh was to her, of the short distance between her bare arm and his. He'd finally taken off his armor, and she caught a glimpse of just how toned he was when he wore just a soft shirt and worn breeches. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbow, and it was ridiculous how his bare forearm was attractive to her. He kept his shirt fully buttoned so that none of his chest was visible, but those inches of bare tanned skin below his elbows excited her. As he cleaned his sword beside her, she could see the muscles flexing with every push and pull of his cloth.
Goodness, she was foolishly attracted to him. Him, a knight in the Queen's Guard. She'd never even been within the wall, much less to the palace. She was an Outlander, a girl of the Forest Folk—even if she did have ambition to be more. What would he ever see in a girl like her?
She'd just have to show him.
She opened her mouth, intending to comment on how she loved the rain, but instead found herself confessing, "My parents traded me as a baby."
Kyrrin's head snapped up and his dark eyes flickered in the firelight. "Beg pardon?"
She drew up her knees, carefully arranging the various layers of her skirt so she didn't reveal more than she intended. "I wasn't born in the Outlands. Our shaman says that a couple came one day to adopt an orphaned Outlander baby. They left me in the baby's crib and took off in the middle of the night."
"They traded you for another baby? Why would anyone do that?" Kyrrin sounded appalled.
"I don't know that they were really looking for another baby when they stopped at our village. I think they were just looking to get rid of me and took her as… penance? A life for a life? Maybe they couldn't have any more children, they just didn't want me."
"Why wouldn't anyone want you?"
She warmed inside. The way Kyrrin said it suggested he was part of the 'anyone' who, of course, would want her. "I think they didn't want to deal with my magic. It—I was too much to handle."
Kyrrin shook his head. He held up his sword to the firelight and admired the unblemished blade. "Magic is popular in the kingdom. My father has it. I mean, it isn't strong. He can barely do more than light a candle or heat up his tea when it goes cold. Then again, he has servants to do all that, so his magic really doesn't do him much at all."
She cocked her head at that new tidbit of Kyrrin's life. "Your family has servants? You're nobles?"
He hesitated. "My parents have servants. I don't."
"Because you've chosen a selfless life in the Queen's Guard."
He laughed and gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm not a priest or a hermit. I'm far from selfless. I'm actually quite selfish—just ask my father. Being in the Queen's Guard is more about belonging, for me. About having a family."
"But you have a family. You have your parents."
Kyrrin hesitated again, then shrugged his shoulders a little. "Some days more than others. They have other demands on them."
She drew her eyebrows together, puzzled, but instead of elaborating, Kyrrin got up and stowed his sword among his things. When he returned, he sat even closer to her, so close that there was scant space between them. If she so much as shifted, they would be touching.
Kyrrin seemed to realize this because he blushed faintly and turned his face toward the falling rain. Steeling herself, Arriyah leaned against him. He jumped ever so slightly, but when she didn't move away, he settled his arm around her shoulders.
She sighed silently, her belly tingling at the contact. He was just as strong as she had thought him to be; she could feel his tight biceps flex against her when he held her closer. And he was warm too. Heat radiated from him, warming her more than the fire.
She let her head fall onto his shoulder, breathing in the masculine scent of him. It was refined but hot-blooded at the same time, and it made her blood race through her.
"I always felt like I was destined for more," she whispered. "More than just life in the Outlands. More than just becoming the shaman of the Forest Folk."
"But your people look to you."
She shook her head. "There are two of us playing shaman to our people. He's stronger than I am, wiser. They look to him. They know I'm not one of them. I wasn't born in the Outlands, and I don't want to die here. But where would I go?"
"Come to the kingdom," he urged. She imagined she could feel his heart racing as well. His throat was barely inches from her face. All she had to do was stretch in order to kiss— "I told you, my people respect magic wielders. You could do anything. Be a healer, a warrior, a teacher. In the kingdom, they would appreciate you like I do."
"You appreciate me?" She was fishing for compliments, but she didn't care. She'd never heard anything so wonderful as Kyrrin's sweet voice.
His arm tightened around her. "Maybe it didn't seem like it earlier. But now that I've seen what you can do… I thought you were bragging before, talking about what you could do. My father was always disappointed that I couldn't do magic like he could. He'd love you."
Arriyah wrinkled her nose. "I don't have parents. I mean, somewhere I probably do, but I was a child of the whole village, not any one couple. I never knew what it was like to have two people completely devoted to me."
She felt Kyrrin's short laugh deep in his chest before she heard it. She liked being so close to him that she could feel his emotions.
"Well, they weren't only devoted to me. They had other people to be concerned with too."
"Yes, but you were their son. You and your father didn't get on?"
Kyrrin hesitated. "We got on better when I was younger. I think there was always a barrier between us, and I could never overcome it. It wasn't just t
he magic. And when I got older and decided who I wanted to be, when I joined the Queen's Guard… I don't think he ever understood that. I think he thought I was throwing away the life he had given me. Sometimes he looked at me like I was crazy for choosing a life that was harder than the life of a nobleman."
Arriyah gently rested her hand on Kyrrin's knee. He jerked reflexively, but when he didn't ask her to move it, she rubbed his leg reassuringly. "I think you're exactly who you want to be. I still feel like I'm searching for where I belong. You've already found it."
"It wasn't easy."
"Is anything?" she teased.
"Being with you," he answered simply, setting her heart thumping again. "This feels so easy to me."
She smiled. "I think so too."
He turned to look at her, and she pulled back so that she could look into those deep eyes. He reached out to carefully run his fingers over one of her many braids, pulling her hair back from her face.
"You remind me of my mother."
She bit her lip. "That's a terrible thing to say."
"Not like that!"
She laughed at the way he balked, even if he did stop touching her. "I hope not."
"I just meant that it was easy to be around her too. When I was growing up, and I was so lost and didn't have a clue… she didn't mind. She didn't make me feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. It was nice to be around her. Even now… I would do anything for her. I'd die for her, in a heartbeat."
She gently took his hand in hers.
"Arriyah…" He looked out into the rain for a moment before facing her again. "The queen is my mother."
She sighed. She'd been hoping for something a bit more profound than that. "You all feel that the Queen Mother is your mother. Isn't that how all knights in the Queen's Guard feel? I mean, that's how you get the job. You have to love her more than everyone else."
"Arriyah, I'm serious. She's really my mother."
She pulled away. She didn't understand the game he was playing at. It made absolutely no sense to her. "The queen doesn't have a son."
The light faded from Kyrrin's eyes, and they became flat and hard. Without responding, he left her at the mouth of the cave, wondering how the mood had died so suddenly.
*~*~*
Kyrrin pushed his hair out of his eyes. What had he been thinking, revealing his deepest secret to Arriyah when he had only known her for a day—most of which they'd spent fighting? He hadn't been thinking, that was the answer. He felt close to Arriyah in ways he couldn't put into words. He hadn't been lying when he'd said she reminded him of the best parts of his mother, but she also had a short temper that matcher hed short stature—which he found both endearing and adorable, even when she was mad at him. She'd been talking about her childhood and growing up; he'd been doing the same, and it had felt as natural as breathing to tell her his next step.
But he'd gone about it all wrong. He couldn't seem to find the right words to explain something to her that he had taken years to explain to himself. What if she didn't understand?
Then again, what if she did? He wanted her to understand him. He wanted to get closer to her, which, if he was being honest with himself, he had never really wanted with anyone before.
It was best just to do it, right then and there, and be done with it. Either she would understand or she wouldn't.
He strode back to the cave opening. "I am the child of the queen," he said again, kneeling beside Arriyah and taking her small hands in his. "But the body I was born in didn't match who I really am." Those were the right words, but they weren't enough. He needed to explain more, explain better. His mother had known him and watched his struggle his whole life. Telling her had, in the end, been a relief. When it came to telling Arriyah, who had only ever known him as the man kneeling before her, he couldn't find the words he wanted, to explain to her without using the words he hated.
To his surprise, Arriyah met his gaze and gently stroked her thumbs over the backs of her hands. It was soothing. "I understand."
"You do?"
"My shaman has devoted his entire life to the study of the human soul." She reached up to touch his face with her fingertips, her touch soft but not hesitant. "Maybe the first thing you notice in a person is that he has eyes so deep, you feel like you could drown in them and never reach the bottom. Or that he has biceps that make you quiver." She winked at him impishly. "But you don't fall in love with these things. You fall in love with someone's heart, with their spirit. With their true self."
"This doesn't change anything?" He had to ask, just to be sure.
"You're still attracted to me, aren't you?" she asked.
He certainly hadn't expected her to put him on the spot like that. He swallowed. He was a knight, for goodness sake! He fought monsters, had just told her his identity, and he was cowed by the thought of admitting his feelings? "Yes."
She smiled. He loved the way her smile lit up her face. He loved that he could make her smile. "And I think it's obvious that I've been attracted to you since the moment you saved my life."
He grinned. He was glad she'd confessed her feelings as well. It would have been unchivalrous of him to ask.
"Well…" She squeezed his hands and got to her feet. "Good night."
"Good night?"
"I think that's enough talk for one night. It's late, and I have a million questions to ask you, but they'll have to wait until tomorrow."
"You do?" He felt slightly apprehensive. Of course she had questions.
"Mhmm. I think I'll start with those eyes of yours. I've been wondering if they're natural, or if you were Blessed as a baby." She reached up, unconsciously Kyrrin thought, to touch one of the charms in her hair. "I also want to know your favorite color. Your favorite food. If you look as delicious in chainmail as you do in all that leather." She winked. "Like I said, a million questions. But if I ask them all tonight, neither of us will get any sleep, and we are on a mission after all."
He didn't protest, but followed her to their separate bedrolls on either side of the small fire he had built for light and heat, not so close to the entryway that it would be doused by the rain, but not so far back that the smoke couldn't find its way out.
He liked the way she flirted with him. It was like a dance. He'd never been particularly good at dancing—or flirting, he imagined, though he'd never tried—but Arriyah didn't seem to mind. As he fell asleep, he found himself looking forward to her questions.
*~*~*
The next morning, Arriyah's questions were interrupted when the valley appeared in the distance. It was a bowl, or so the map said, lined with crags and rock. The picture of it looked like a crater, like a star really had fallen from the sky and landed in the middle of the mountain.
Kyrrin's heart was racing, and it had nothing to do with the delicate arch of Arriyah's neck when she pulled her heavy hair away to restyle it as they walked. Or with the way she hiked up a few of her skirts to cool herself down as the sun rose in the sky.
Okay, those things might have had something to do with it.
Mostly, though, it was that he was close enough to touch victory. He could see the valley; he could almost feel the petals of those flowers in his hands when he plucked them. He could almost hear his mother's voice when she returned to health.
He was so close.
*~*~*
The closer they got to the valley, the further Arriyah's heart sank. It was almost over. She could feel it. By day's end, they would have an armful of the flowers and be on their way back to the palace. And she couldn't do anything to slow their return, even if it was just to get a few more minutes with Kyrrin. The queen would die if she did, and even if the queen didn't matter to her the way she did to Kyrrin, she couldn't be that selfish.
She wanted to be. Why couldn't they have been on one of those quests that took months or years to complete, the way they always did in old stories? Two days was far too short a time to be with Kyrrin.
They picked their way over the suddenly rocky terr
ain, Kyrrin occasionally taking hold of her elbow to steady her. It made her melt inside in the most delightful way.
When they finally reached the entryway to the valley, Arriyah took Kyrrin's hand. When he looked at her in surprise, she squeezed his hand reassuringly.
*~*~*
This was it. Just a few more steps, and then he would collect a sack full of flowers and save the queen. Arriyah gave him an encouraging smile, and they stepped into the valley.
It was empty.
There was green grass filling the valley, all the way to the rocky bowled edge. But there wasn't a flower in sight. Not one.
"Oh my…" Arriyah murmured.
Kyrrin gripped her hand even tighter. How could this be? How could there not be one single flower in the entire valley? Not one?
There was a small rundown hut off to one side, and he quickly dropped Arriyah's hand to stride to its door.
An old crone hobbled out when he knocked loudly on the door. "Can I help you?" she rasped, peering at him with clear, blue eyes.
"The flowers, that grew in this valley. What happened to them?"
"Oh, dear." She sighed, looking around the valley wistfully and pulling her shawl tighter, even though it was perfectly sunny and warm. "They died. Years and years ago. When I was just a little girl. I stayed, though. Every spring I hope that they will bloom again. And every spring, they never do." She gripped her elbows with knobby hands. "I take care of the land and watch over it. Maybe… one day…" She sighed, looking out at the valley as if she could imagine it in full bloom once more. "Maybe, one day, they will grow again."
Kyrrin felt the pit fall out of his stomach. He stared at the old woman; he couldn't think of what to say or do next. What was there? What could he possibly do?
"Are there any more? Anywhere else?" He was desperate, grasping at straws. "Do you know anywhere else the flowers grow?"
She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not. This star-crater is the only place in existence where the flower grew. They were a gift from the heavens." Tears gathered in her eyes. "But we didn't deserve something so precious, and so they took it back."
To the Victor Page 34
