Quest of the Dreamwalker (The Corthan Legacy Book 1)

by Stacy Bennett

  “You’re not old,” she said, though she noticed more gray in his beard now than when she first met him. Still, he smiled more often lately, and it was good to see that the worst of his grief was over.

  She considered asking him about what Khoury said but decided she didn’t care that much. She could only follow her heart. What they thought shouldn’t matter. Instead, she asked Bradan about his fighting experience and he happily regaled her with tales of his youth, fighting giants as a young man. When Khoury came to sit by the fire, her attention followed him though she still nodded appropriately at the old shaman.

  The captain sat down and took out his whetstone and swords. Smoothing stone over blade, she watched him hone the edge to a bright gleam. The work soothed him. The firelight played over the planes of his face, and she remembered the night in the Keep when she’d been enthralled by his scars. His blunt fingers reminded her of his hands on her waist in the river. Then, as now, watching him kindled something in her. But tonight, she felt something more, a predatory heat and a surety about what she really wanted. Impulsively, she decided that tonight she would finally discover what those couples had really been doing out by the bear pens.

  KHOURY CLOSED HIS eyes as he worked the blades one by one. The rhythmic motion, the swish of the stone, untied the knots inside him: The fight, the rage, Cara’s concerning power. Behind his eyelids, it was the Huntress who came to mind first. Her anger at him had been justified, but the fact that she just let the matter drop showed how deeply ashamed she was over Rebeka’s escape.

  Archer had been right; she had excellent weapon skills, the ability to think on her feet, and grace under pressure. But most importantly, she understood there were no rules when life was on the line. All that mattered was surviving. She’d been ready to remove Rebeka as a threat, of that Khoury was sure. And, he would have done the same in her position.

  Cara had been wrong to force Rebeka’s release. He still didn’t know how she’d done it. Did her power extend to coercion? His mind rebelled at the thought.

  When confronted, she hadn’t given him an answer. She hadn’t cringed or apologized. She had met his scrutiny with unexpected resolve and defiance, forcing him to see her as more than the child he’d been telling himself she was. Perhaps that misconception had served him. He didn’t want to accept the attraction between them, insisting on seeing her as a child instead.

  He glanced up at her, surprised that she was watching him. She didn’t drop her eyes either, instead her mouth turned upward in a seductive smile that held promises he wasn’t sure she understood.

  He tried to see her as a woman with the strength to choose. A woman who would make her own way in the world. Something in his heart shifted. Battle always heated his blood and that smile only compounded his need.

  He shook himself. Now was not the time to be swept up in passion. He thought of the cool lake, just the remedy for wayward thoughts. Having finished both blades, he sheathed them and tucked them under his blanket.

  The Huntress hadn’t returned yet, but the sun was just kissing the edge of the horizon and the air was cooling rapidly. If he wanted to wash the blood and sweat and desire from his body, he’d have to hurry.

  “I’m going to the lake,” he announced.

  Cara’s eyes clung to his with uncharacteristic boldness that only heightened his interest. Pushing the intimate thoughts from his mind, he headed to the lake.

  When he arrived at the water’s edge, he scanned the water for Falin. She was just emerging from the water to his left, climbing onto the flat rocks where her clothes had been washed and laid out to dry. She didn’t notice him as he watched her. Her naked body shone wetly in the fading light. In the low light of evening, alone with the forest, she was utterly at peace. The watchful tension she usually carried was gone. Her hair clung wetly to her head and back as she hummed, drying herself with her blanket.

  Then she lifted a long strip of cloth and carefully snugged her breasts to her body, hiding her curves under linen and then leather. Her careful attention to dressing drew his gaze to every part of her until finally she wrung the water from her long hair and knotted the strands carelessly at her neck before she gathered up her pack and headed back to camp.

  Unsettled by the effect she had on him, he stripped quickly and dove into the chill water, letting the shock of it clear the primal flush from his skin. He swam out from the shore, powerful strokes driving him swiftly through the water. When at last he stopped and turned back, the sun had finally dropped behind the mountains taking the last of the light with it. He strode out of the water in search of his clothes to find Cara waiting for him in the dim half-light.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to kiss you,” she said in her simplistic way as she stepped into the ankle deep water.

  “Did you?”

  She nodded with a smile and stretched up to slide her arms around his neck. “I didn’t see your memories today when I healed your arm.”

  He had noticed that, too.

  “I must be getting that control Bradan is always talking about.” She smiled at him, mischievous and inviting, and then drew him down to her lips.

  He braced himself for the kiss, but there was no aching grief or painful memory in it, only the softness of her lips on his. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him gently closer. His hands itched to rove over her skin. Instead he placed them firmly on her hips, his fingers wrapping around her curves, fighting the desire to slide her out of her dress. No matter how sure she seemed, he knew she was untouched.

  “I’ve told you before,” he murmured against her lips. “This isn’t right.”

  “So you’ve said.” Her voice was playful. “I’m too young, or something.” Her hand slid down his chest, provocative fingers tickling his bare skin as they roamed.

  His heart pounded with heady anticipation. “Too young to know what’s good for you.”

  “Good for me?” She scoffed. “I don’t care what’s good for me. I only know what I want.” Her hand slid lower. Her boldness shocked him, its naïve seduction breaking through his reserve. His hand cupped her cheek gently though his lips roved over hers with fierce passion. Her eager moan was all the answer he needed. He swept her up in his arms and splashed his way to the grassy shore where he lowered her to the soft ground.

  WHEN FALIN RETURNED from her bath, she felt refreshed but utterly spent. Archer was turning the spit. Bradan had already fallen asleep. Khoury and Cara were missing and she assumed they’d gone to get clean as well though she hadn’t seen them at the lake. She laid out her blanket and her pack and dropped to the ground, her mind whirling with the strangeness of the day.

  “You okay?” Archer asked, handing her a scorched half of squirrel.

  “I’m fine,” she said, and strangely enough she was. When she’d checked the stitches at the lake, the wounds had already closed up. And, thankfully, the fingers moved better already. Cara had only touched her for a few moments. The rabbit had far more power than she ever would have believed. Falin yawned widely.

  Archer chuckled. “Get some rest. I’ve got watch.”

  She smiled weakly at him. After shoving down some meat, she stretched out under her rough blanket. Her mind was weightless and empty as she listened to the popping of the fire. She floated for a while in hazy half-sleep and then she was dreaming.

  A warm pair of lips descended on hers. Drowsily she returned the kiss, wondering where the dream would take her. The lips smiled against her mouth, and the familiarity of the accompanying chuckle nudged her toward wakefulness. Confused by the warm weight pressing her to soft ground, she tried to figure out where she was. Languid sleepiness held her in a fog. Someone murmured, but she couldn’t make out the words. He kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly, and she became aware of hard-muscled masculine thighs intertwined with hers, drawing her attention to the fact that she was naked.

  Alarmed, her mind scrambled to find focus. The kisses shift
ed to her cheeks and eyelids and when her eyes opened she could just make out Khoury’s handsome features in the moonlight.

  His eyes wandered over her face like a caress, their smoky blue depths stoking an unfamiliar fire in her; she felt flushed and excited. His hand caressed her curves as she ran her palms over the warm skin of his shoulders and back.

  “I have wanted you.” His voice was husky as he slipped strong arms underneath her, crushing her to him as his mouth found hers again. His tongue teased hers and she purred, arching up against him, wanting to be closer still.

  Encouraged, he shifted his weight lower, kissing her collarbone, her shoulders and lower. Excitement burned off her drowsiness but her mind was still separate, observant. Desire tingled in her limbs, and her skin beneath his hands was electrically alive. She yearned for the sensations he created. But she felt out of control and the thought that this dream was her master gave rise to sharp anxiety.

  As the emotions spiraled upward, their effect terrified her. He made her want him. He made her need him in ways she didn’t even understand. She would have followed him anywhere, done anything he asked. And that fact made her rebel against even this delicious servitude.

  She told herself to pull away, but her body refused to obey. She wanted to stop, but her hands continued to arouse him as if they had minds of their own. She ached for him to possess her and hated herself for wanting it. When he shifted himself between her legs, her mind cried out for her to jump up and flee.

  He paused and she could feel his heart pounding, his restrain tenuous. “Are you sure?”

  No! she answered in her mind, relief momentarily easing her fear.

  But the word that escaped her lips was, “Yes.”

  His hands tightened on her hips.

  “No!”

  Falin bolted upright as her shout echoed against the rocks. Her blanket tangled with her legs, and she almost wept with relief that she wasn’t actually naked.

  “You okay?” Archer half-stood as he watched her from across the fire.

  She nodded and waved him to sit, looking around the fire to reorient herself. Bradan’s snores continued unperturbed, and Khoury was nowhere to be seen.

  “Nightmare?” Archer asked, leaning against a boulder.

  “Something like that.” She managed a weak smile. Exhaling slowly, she forced the sensual images from her mind.

  She was no stranger to disturbing dreams. She’d had nightmares all her life, always trapped and oftentimes not herself. There was a curiously strong reality about them, and this was undoubtedly one of those dreams. It had been so real that her heart still pounded with longing and her clothes were damp with sweat.

  But why Khoury?

  She stared at the leaping flames and searched her feelings long and hard only to discover something disappointing—she was attracted to the captain. She reminded herself she was a Huntress and the attraction nothing of consequence. The swirl of emotions remained. Deeply disturbed, she laid back down to sleep, pulling the blanket around her like armor. Even so, the lure of Khoury’s caresses followed her into what fitful rest she found that night.

  ARCHER WOKE, ALERT and rested, in the small hours. It was Bradan’s watch and the older man was struggling to keep his eyes open. Archer often forgot that the others weren’t used to the interrupted sleep or the steady pace.

  “Hey, why don’t you get some rest,” he offered in a quiet voice, startling the older Northerner.

  “You need your rest, too.” His voice was stiff with pride.

  “I’m not tired.” Archer folded up his blanket and moved closer to the fire. “I’ll wake you in an hour.”

  Bradan hesitated but in the end weariness won out. “All right,” he said around a yawn.

  While the shaman settled beneath his blanket, Archer walked the perimeter of camp. He paused by the captain whose arm was tucked around a sleeping Cara and smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time Khoury had someone special, and he was mostly glad for it. But choosing her now was ill-advised. Archer had no illusions that a confrontation with Sidonius was inevitable and would cost them dearly. Still, Khoury deserved what happiness he could find while there was still time. Archer wandered back toward the fire and set to re-fletching the best of the looted arrows with the black groundhawk feathers.

  When the dawn had chased away all but two lingering stars, Archer woke Bradan and Falin to start breaking down the camp and readying the horses. He let the lovers sleep at least until Falin tripped over her own feet and landed on her wounded hand. Her cursing would have woken the dead.

  “Morning,” he heard Khoury rumble. He turned to reply but the captain hadn’t intended it for him. He watched Khoury pull Cara closer, tucking his nose in her hair.

  But then something odd happened. She rolled over and kissed him for the briefest of moments and they leapt apart as if stung.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, scrambling backward. Tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” Archer watched her frantically search for her gloves and shove her hands inside.

  Khoury scrubbed at his face as if disoriented. “It’s okay. It just startled me.” He stood up and reached for her. Archer noted her hesitation before letting Khoury pull her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised.

  Archer cleared his throat loudly. “We’re nearly ready to go, Captain.” The captain nodded but there was sadness in his eyes that left Archer wondering what had just happened.

  The rest of the day passed much like the previous ones. Falin had recovered her prickly defiance and even joined the afternoon sparring session. She was a challenging opponent, and Archer liked working with her. They all took turns showing Cara how to wield her staff, but she really had no aptitude for fighting.

  Archer silently thanked Rebeka as they mounted up to continue, grateful for commandeered horses. With them, the group traveled farther and faster. Thankfully, there were no signs of Rebeka or any other pursuit.

  By the end of the second day, they’d reached the Pass. As the sun set behind them, Archer gazed down on the city of Iolair. The plains stretched out beyond Iolair where it nestled between peaks of the White Mountains. The flatlands were already shrouded in the dusk cast by the mountains’ shadow. Rising abruptly up from the gently sloping road, the bold square watchtowers of Iolair shone brightly in the day’s last light, their tawny marble stark against the darkening plains beyond.

  Archer waited at the top of the rise for Cara to pull up next to him. She stared slack-jawed at the dazzling city ahead, Khoury by her side.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Khoury said. She nodded, speechless.

  “Wait until you see the inside.” Archer smiled at Cara’s questioning look and clucked his horse forward, leading the way down the widening road.

  “They say that the stones were brought from quarries in the Far East,” Bradan said, amazing Archer again with his esoteric knowledge of distant places. “The King of Tarantis spared no expense, thinking this would be the crossroads of his great empire.”

  “This is an empire?” Cara asked.

  “No,” Bradan said. “He couldn’t hold it. At one time, he was at war on three fronts with three different enemies. With each loss, his would-be kingdom shrank.”

  “But he never relinquished Iolair. He died defending her,” Khoury said.

  Iolair’s main gate in the great golden wall stood open and inviting. Its wooden doors were wide and tall, bleached to the color of flax and banded with bronze wrought into wings.

  “The Eagle’s Nest, Captain?” Archer asked out of habit.

  “Not this time,” Khoury said with a quelling glance. “We should head straight to the baron. No telling what Sidonius has been up to.”

  “Eagle’s Nest?” Cara asked with a frown.

  “The inn we usually stay at,” Archer explained.

  Khoury leaned over and took her hand in his. “I’ve some…history there.”

  “History?” Cara frowned.
>
  “Nothing important, milady.” Khoury teased, bringing her hand to his lips.

  Archer almost laughed at the captain’s display. The girl had surely stolen his heart. Deciding to let the two of them lead the way, Archer dropped back next to Falin. He caught her predictable eye roll at his presence. He’d checked on her frequently since her injury, much to her overt annoyance. And even though Cara said she’d never worked on Falin’s hand, the wounds had nearly healed in the past two days.

  “So what do you think?” he asked.

  “About what?” she replied with blunt disinterest.

  “Iolair.” He gestured at the lofty white city with exasperation. “You hadn’t seen it before, had you?”

  “No.” She pretended to be unimpressed, but he noticed her eyes kept returning to the view.

  “And…” he prompted, making a clownishly expectant face.

  She laughed. “All right. I admit it’s beautiful. Breathtaking.” She grinned with forced cheer. “Happy now?”

  “Yes,” he said and then rode next to her in comfortable silence. He’d grown fond of her wry wit and flashes of mood. A sobering thought occurred to him. “You’ll be leaving us now, I suppose.”

  “I swore to bring you to Iolair and we are here,” she said softly. “You don’t need me anymore.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said. “This isn’t over.”

  “I’m sure the captain doesn’t need me.” Something he didn’t understand lurked behind that quiet assertion, but he let it stand. He was determined that he’d convince her to stay somehow.

  They passed through the gate as the city finally dipped into darkness. Khoury led them along a wide cobbled street lit by lanterns suspended from poles. Even with night approaching people swarmed the maze of streets. The center of town was governed by a large marble fountain with four carved eagles and eight streets fanning out like the rays of the sun. The captain turned up the northeastern road, which widened as it went, lined with fragrant cedar and statues.