Blood of the Volcano: Sequal to Heart of the Volcano

by Imogen Howson

  “No.” She looked at him, her face still soft with the look that had made him kiss her. “It wasn’t just you. I’m virgin, I’m not stupid. I knew what I was doing. I just…” Her voice caught on a sob. “Damn all this. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know. I—you—” She put a hand out, a miserable, longing gesture that said more than words. “But then I think of living without my power, of putting myself in a position where, even if I choose to return, even if your people would let me go, they’d never have me back, and I…oh gods, it hurts so much I can’t breathe.”

  Ten different responses warred in his head. How would they tell you weren’t virgin anymore? We’re never going to let you go back, what does it matter what you do now? He wanted to comfort her, although the gods knew right now he didn’t dare touch her, but part of him wanted to shout at her too, grab her and shake her and make her listen to him, make her—

  He drew in another breath, feeling it shudder between his teeth, forcing himself to unclench his hands, loosen his grip on the anger so it could slip away. “I understand. I—” Anger at himself crashed through him, unexpected and disorienting. Stupid, stupid—I should never have got near to doing that. She’d been outside the temple for ten days, only ten days. How could he think she’d be ready to throw her whole life away for the freak empath everyone else had rejected? “I’d better go. I’m sorry about this whole thing. ”

  At least he could stand up now without embarrassment. He moved to do so, then saw her eyes on him, and the suddenly rigid line of her mouth.

  “You’re going?”

  “What else?”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Do you have to? Can’t you stay?”

  If it hadn’t been for what had just happened, he would have, as he had the other nights, knowing she would admit her fear to no one else.

  “To keep you company in the dark?” He smiled at her, trying to act normal, trying to act as if his whole body weren’t screaming with frustration so intense it was like pain.

  “I…I mean, here.” Flushing, she made a little gesture towards the blankets next to her.

  You can’t be asking me that. After what we nearly did, you think I can lie beside you and sleep? The pause stretched out and her flush deepened painfully.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I…forget it, please.”

  But he couldn’t leave her. He was on edge, teeth-grindingly, sickeningly frustrated, and she was right, she shouldn’t ask, but all the same, she had never meant to do this to him, and she was suffering too. And scared of being alone.

  “Of course I’ll stay,” he said.

  But two hours later, when he’d fallen asleep and she lay sleepless beside him, Maya wished she hadn’t asked. Her body still ached for him, her skin coming alive every time he moved, painfully aware of his body next to hers, the hands that had woken her to unfamiliar desire, the planes of his chest and back that she’d felt beneath her fingers.

  If I hadn’t made him stop…

  She’d never felt anything like this before, desire so strong she was shaken with it, her whole body restless and aching. She slid her hand down herself, feeling her tunic damp with sweat, sticking against her skin, feeling where she throbbed for him, and in her mind her hand became his, making her lips open in a silent gasp.

  But she didn’t want that, didn’t want her own touch. She wanted his body, all that strength she’d been frightened of but that had turned so miraculously into something that set her alight, something that made her want to melt into him like wax into flame.

  She turned over on her side, stretching out, trying to drag her mind away from her body that shivered as if she were ill with fever, trying to think about something else: the slight breeze of cool air on her face, the promises she’d made to Aera to help with the invasion of the city and temple.

  What was I thinking, anyway, denying myself what we both wanted? I’m helping the enemy—they’re never going to let me be maenad, no matter whether I lie with, as well as give aid to, one of the people they made outcast long ago.

  It had been panic, that was all. The same kind of stupid panic that had sent her backing off a cliff, the same kind of panic that had driven Philos into giving her promises he should never have made. When I was maenad I took pride in my strength—the strength of my mind as well as my body. I may not be maenad now, but I can be strong as a human too.

  She turned onto her other side so she could peer through the dark in Philos’s direction. If he woke now and reached for her, she would not make him go to sleep unsatisfied again.

  Wake. Wake.

  He didn’t.

  She slept eventually, but her sleep was restless, filled with dreams of unfocused longing, and whenever he shifted position, it pulled her to wakefulness. Wakefulness, and awareness of desperate, unsatisfied desire.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The walls of the ravine rose high above Maya’s head, cutting out the glare of the midday sun. But not the heat. She’d worn, and been glad of, a desert robe during the morning’s journey across the sands, but in the damp air at the bottom of the ravine it had become soaked with sweat, clinging to her skin, sticking between her shoulder blades. Within minutes she’d had to strip it off, tying it around the waist of the old maenad tunic she wore underneath, leaving her legs free to pick her way along the creeper-strewn shelf above the river.

  Ahead, Aera called a halt, the second since they’d begun making their way up the ravine. Maya dropped thankfully to her knees, scooping up river water to pour into her mouth and splash over her head. Next to her, Venli gave a breath of laughter. “How much would you give to be some kind of water-creature shifter? If I could only dive into that water and be sure I’d not drown…”

  “You’d drown,” said Philos, on Maya’s other side, scraping wet hair from his face.

  “You didn’t.” Venli twisted her hair into a rope so she could pat water onto her exposed neck. The movement pulled at the shift she wore, dragging it close against the curve of her breasts.

  “I was lucky.” Philos stood, not glancing at her.

  Maya cupped more water in her hands. There were eight of them in the group. Three of them were vital to their plan. Iraus, Maya and Aera. Philos and Coram were there to get them to the temple, and protect Iraus and Maya once they reached it, Philos with his power of suggestion and Coram, who could fly the two of them to safety the moment anything went wrong. Sufi, the little roof-rat-shifter, alone amongst them all, had no role in the plan. He was here solely because he’d refused to let them take Iraus without him. There had been an argument about that. Maya had the impression few people argued with Aera, and was surprised when she heard Sufi had got his way.

  The remaining two members of the group, Venli and Leos, had been picked for their gifts only. Maya had seen Leos’s gift—she understood why he’d been chosen. And Venli must have something worthwhile too. But travelling in a close group with Venli, unable to avoid her, had not given her any more liking of the girl.

  They were making their way along the ravine to the place where Maya had first caught up with the fugitive Philos. Then they would have to emerge onto the desert floor, exposed to the view of anyone coming from the city. They were going to wait in the ravine until nighttime, and after that rely on their gifts of shifting, flight and camouflage to get them to the temple walls. Once in place, Iraus had assured them he could hold all the inhabitants—priests, priestesses, maenads, guards—in stasis. He could not do it from as little as a foot outside. For his gift to work he had to be higher than the people it was to affect, which meant they had to get him not only within the temple but all the way to its roof.

  Before Maya had joined them, the outlaws had been thinking they must rely on Aera to guide them within the temple, despite her memory of the temple interior being blurred by five years’ absence, and despite knowing that many things could have changed since she’d been novice priestess within those high walls. But Maya had been able to give them a recent, detail
ed account of how the temple was laid out.

  Although she’d known that knowledge must be useful to them, she had not expected to be included on this endeavour. It was less than a month ago that she would have killed them if she could; she had not thought to be accepted into their trust so quickly.

  Philos had explained it to her, in one of the brief moments of speech she’d had with him in the last few days.

  “No one has any business mistrusting you, Maya. If we suspected everyone who came from the enemy’s side, or insisted on a period of waiting before we’d accept their help, we’d have no army at all.” He hesitated. “And if you planned to betray us, I could tell them.”

  That had been one of the few conversations she’d had with him. He was avoiding her, and she could not blame him. She’d tried to broach the subject once, the night after, when he climbed to her cave to keep her company once again. Heat had risen into her face, she’d stumbled over the words, and he’d stopped her, gently, but in a way that made it impossible for her to argue with.

  “You don’t need to apologise, Maya. It’s my fault, I knew it was too soon for you. You owe me nothing.” He’d smiled at her, a smile that caught at her, making her breath stop in her throat. “I can wait for you to decide, for you to be sure. Now, with the war coming, the danger—it’s no time to make decisions you might regret forever.”

  “I won’t regret it. Philos—”

  His voice was still gentle, but the muscles in his jaw hardened. “Maya, don’t. You—you make me forget my good intentions, and I mustn’t. I can’t afford to. For your sake, and for my own.”

  So that night, and all the nights after it, she’d lain awake, listening to his breathing coming from the far side of the cave, wanting something she couldn’t have.

  “I can wait,” he’d said. But Maya had not waited for anything since she became a maenad. She had not learned patience and didn’t want to try. The other night, she’d been afraid, but she wasn’t now.

  Today, as they travelled through the ravine towards the city and the temple, full of people who would want to control her and kill him, a new fear arose.

  What if he dies? What if that was my only chance to be with him, my only chance to have that? What if he dies and I never get to touch him again?

  That fear hadn’t come to her before. If it had she would have made him talk to her, made him listen to any and all arguments she could produce to confirm they should be together—once, at least, if never again.

  After the short rest they resumed their journey. As Maya picked her way over the creepers and tumbles of fallen stones, the memory came to her of how she’d leapt into this same ravine, strode unhesitating over its uneven floor, her balance perfect, unerring. The memory brought pain, longing, but these last days she’d learned a different kind of longing, and the familiar grief over the loss of her power seemed muted, eclipsed by something she wanted more.

  She stumbled, caught off guard, her heart racing. All my life, I’ve wanted nothing but the maenad power. When I lost it I thought I’d die of grief. Yet now…

  She lifted her eyes to see where Philos walked ahead of her, his hair tied with a strip of cloth, the back of his tunic wet with sweat that had soaked in a dark patch through the fabric. Yet now, I want him more. Not because I’m afraid to live without him, not because I’m afraid that losing him is some kind of punishment from a god too harsh to deserve worship. Just because of him. Just because I…

  She almost stumbled again, too caught up in her thoughts to take care of where she stepped.

  It’s not just wanting him. That, alone, could never eclipse the only thing I ever wanted, ever burned for before. I…

  But she couldn’t voice the words, not even to herself. For a maenad vowed before womanhood to virginal service of the god, desire was alien and frightening enough. To admit that it was something more, something stronger, something that, even if it went forever unmet, might not die…

  Beneath her foot, a stone slipped, and this time she didn’t just stumble but fell, awkwardly trying to save herself, failing and going down hard on one knee. Pain stabbed through her knee into her thighbone.

  “Maya?” Philos dropped next to her. “Are you all right?”

  For a moment she had her teeth clenched so hard to stop herself crying out that she couldn’t answer him. She jerked a nod, then managed to speak. “It’s all right. It’s not—” But as she tried to stand the pain shot through her leg and she had to stop, biting down on a gasp.

  Philos grabbed hold of her to prevent her leg from collapsing under her, then lowered her to a sitting position, calling the others to a halt. A halt, on this most urgent mission, because of her clumsiness. A flush of shame crept up her neck to heat her face.

  Coram bent over her, feeling her knee with surprisingly deft, impersonal fingers. “It’s not broken, Maya. You’ve bruised it, I think, that’s all. Here, Philos, help me.” Philos, who had stepped back to keep out of Coram’s way, came forward and they eased her forward so her leg could be submerged in the numbingly cold water of the river.

  Once they’d dried it and bound it tightly with cloths, it was not too painful for Maya to walk, and they were able to resume their journey. But she felt furious, humiliated, knowing that she’d slowed them down, that one stupid, unnecessary injury could make the difference between failure and success.

  They reached their destination only an hour or so after they’d intended to. The light was leaving the sky, and the ravine filling with shadow, but it was not yet really dark.

  For Maya, the last half-hour had been one of increasing pain. Beneath the cloths, her knee was swelling, and she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to manage the rest of the journey in the dark to the temple wall.

  She lowered herself to sitting, stretching her injured leg out in front of her, trying not to let the pain show in her face or her movements. But as she looked up she found Aera watching her.

  “We’ll rest tonight and tomorrow,” Aera said. “We won’t go on till tomorrow night.”

  “No. I can’t delay us like that.”

  “A day, that’s all. No, Maya—” she lifted a hand as Maya started to protest again, “—I need you when we get there. If we must take a day to let you recover, that’s what we’ll do.”

  While, under Coram’s direction, Maya soaked her leg again in the rushing water then sat while he rebound it, the others set up a makeshift camp strung out along the shelf of the ravine, not wanting to expose themselves by climbing out onto the desert floor. Venli found a ledge, a shallow cave, halfway up the ravine side and came climbing down, nimble as some kind of insect, to tell Leos she’d got them a sleeping place for the night.

  The big man grinned, then looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Venli, Maya’s leg—maybe she would prefer to have the space?”

  A flash of irritation crossed Venli’s face, and the smile she turned on Maya was like a shimmer of illusory water showing over dry sand. “Maya?”

  “No.” As she’d done with Venli before, the word came out too quick, too blunt for anything near courtesy. “I don’t need it.”

  Venli looked at Leos. “There. She doesn’t need it. Come with me if you want. Or you can choose to stay here and I’ll just lie in there by myself.” Anger jumped into her voice before, as if she’d heard herself, her eyes flickered with what could have been embarrassment. She climbed back to the ledge, not looking down, and after a moment Leos did climb after her.

  Maya shot a look at Philos. He was staring after Venli and Leos, and he was frowning.

  “His choice,” said Coram quietly, looking up from tying the last knot in Maya’s bandages.

  Philos’s frown didn’t dissipate. “But still…”

  “And if anyone is to comment,” said Aera from behind Maya, “it should not be you.”

  “Yes, yes, I know that too.” Philos turned away to unpack some of the supplies—dried fruit and meat and shelled nuts—they’d brought with them. Maya watched him. Was that jealousy s
he’d seen in his face, as he’d watched Leos climb to join Venli in their cosy, private cave? It struck her how little she knew of him, of the life he’d led over the ten years he’d been outside the city, while she’d been learning to be nothing but maenad. She was untouched, but he, five years older, a man, and not vowed to anything, she could not expect him to be so too.

  He and Venli, had they…?

  The thought made her shrink. She didn’t want to picture that, didn’t want to imagine him touching Venli the way he’d touched her, didn’t want to think of Venli melting into him the way she, Maya… Until, damn it, she’d panicked and snatched herself away.

  They ate the food as true darkness fell, lightened only by a little starlight, then broke up to find places to sleep.

  Broke up in pairs. Aera and Coram went farther along the shelf, rounding the corner beyond the rockfall. Sufi and Iraus curled up together, their bodies showing an easy familiarity that made Maya stare at them a moment, realising for sure what she’d only suspected before, that they were not just friends but lovers. They were young, surely, and how would they ever have managed to steal enough time together, slave and young noble that they were? But whether they were fully lovers or not, and despite their youth, they were far beyond just friends.

  She raised her head, and in an errant gleam of starlight saw that Philos was watching them too. His face betrayed what she knew showed on hers. Envy, and a bone-deep longing.

  Until this moment she’d been thinking about what she wanted. Maenads were not built to think of others, kindness had been scoured out of her a long time ago. But now, she saw the expression on his face and knew it meant he felt what she felt—an emptiness as strong as grief. For the first time she thought of what hadn’t happened between them in terms of what it had meant to, not her, but him.

  This time she wasn’t going to give him the choice. She pushed herself to her feet, grateful for how tight the binding was around her hurt leg, and limped to where he stood, his hand clenched on the stem of one of the dangling creepers.