Warrior Rising (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Pamela Palmer

  “We have no fire in Esria,” Ilaria said, when they were well out of sight of the Esri. “As I’m sure you can imagine, since it’s the only thing that can kill us. I was sixteen the first time I visited the human realm. I thought it the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

  “You touched it.”

  “I did. And immediately erupted into flame. The humans poured water on me until the fire went out, but it took time. The pain was significant. Being immobilized by it was terrifying.”

  “Didn’t they get suspicious when you weren’t hurt?”

  “They knew who I was. This particular village worshipped the Esri and treated us as gods.”

  “I’m surprised you were able to spend any time in this world after that. There must have been fires everywhere.”

  “There were. That incident gave me a healthy respect for it, I assure you. A fear that sometimes visited my dreams, but wasn’t debilitating.”

  Unlike now. “What happened?”

  She met his gaze, a deep trauma alive in her eyes. “The Forest of Nightmares.”

  He remembered Charlie saying the forest served up your worst nightmares. Good God. It had showed her fire. Perhaps herself burning. For how long? How many times?

  Her pale lashes swept down. When they lifted again, the trauma was well contained behind layers of strength and granite determination. She raised her chin, in full control once more. The princess was back. No, not the princess. The queen. And this queen, he had no doubt, would face whatever she must to reclaim her throne.

  * * *

  Ilaria freed her hand from Harrison’s and grabbed her skirts, running beside him. Not in centuries and centuries had she seen real fire, and the sight of it, the feel of it, was an assault to her mind and senses that would remain with her for a long, long time. The heat of it still licked at her skin, the sight a white haze of fear that slowly dissipated as her insides shivered like water in a breeze.

  But the cold that slowed the blood’s flow through her veins was not a result of the fire, but of betrayal. For millennia, Luciar and Sanderis had been loyal to her mother. Loyal to their queen. They should be loyal to her, too, yet they’d been prepared to drag her to King Rith, knowing he’d never allow her to reclaim the throne of Esria.

  Neither seemed concerned that Rith was a Caller.

  What had he done to them? To all her people. Won their hearts, or their fear? And did it matter, so long as they were loyal to him and not to her?

  For years, she’d worried that she might never leave the forest. With her rescue she’d allowed herself to imagine the celebration she’d return to. As the rightful queen.

  Now she was beginning to wonder if she’d receive any kind of welcome at all. What lies had Rith told to justify her incarceration? Somehow, she’d never truly allowed herself to believe her people could be turned against her. Now, she was afraid she’d been naive and was doomed to return to Esria a pariah.

  The thought fell like a heavy stone upon her heart, yet did nothing to dim her determination. Even if she never reclaimed her throne, even if she found herself again incarcerated within the Forest of Nightmares, she must keep Rith from claiming the seven stones. That was the one thing she could do for her world, for her people. The thing she must do in order to keep both worlds safe from the evil Rith intended to inflict upon them all.

  “We’ve lost them,” Harrison said at last, slowing to a walk. He took her hand again and led her around the corner of one of the redbrick buildings, then turned her to face him, his hands firm on her shoulders.

  His breath was labored, but not unduly so, his expression concerned. “Are you okay?” Those tiny frown lines appeared again between his eyebrows, but this time she welcomed them, knowing they signified his worry for her.

  Her heart lightened. How strange that the one who was proving most loyal to her was the very one who, just hours ago, she’d had the most concern about.

  She smiled. “I’m okay.” Truly, she was more than okay. His loyalty and protectiveness filled her with a sweetness unlike anything she’d ever felt. Perspiration beaded on his brow despite the cold, his cheeks flushed with pink. How was it possible that in such a short time, his face could become so dear?

  His hand cupped her cheek, his eyes studying her as if he sought the truth. His touch set up an intense fluttering inside her chest, a tingling warmth. The man was starting to scare her. He was just a human, just a mortal, but he’d touched something within her that no one else ever had. In those brief moments when they’d kissed back in his apartment, she’d felt as if he’d reached inside her mind. As if he’d seen her. And for a brief moment she’d felt as if she wasn’t alone in this shell of a body. As if she’d connected to another for the very first time.

  As he stared into her eyes now, she felt it again, that disturbing connection. A connection with a man whose entire life would span only a single heartbeat of the world. What a terrible waste for such a man to be mortal. What a cruel trick for fate to put him in her path for only a few short days or weeks. To let her glimpse what she’d been missing, then snatch it away again.

  “Had you expected them to be loyal to you?” he asked softly.

  Her lips compressed, but she didn’t look away. She couldn’t have torn her gaze from his in that moment if she’d wanted to. “He’s been their king for three-hundred years. Three centuries is a long time, even to us.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” he said quietly, his words rich with understanding.

  She sighed. “I’d hoped.”

  His hand lifted to brush her hair back from her face in a move so gentle, so caring, she felt tears prick her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ilaria. I know it has to be a blow.”

  “It’s…disappointing.” Temper flared inside her. “No, it’s infuriating.”

  He nodded slowly. “I agree.” He released her and together they began to walk again.

  “After seeing what Rith has done with only three of those stones, they know he’s a Caller, yet they support him anyway.” She sliced her hand through the air in disgust. “What do they think is going to happen when he comes into his power? Do they think he’s going to make them generals? He won’t need generals! He’ll have complete control of everyone. Everyone.”

  “Maybe they’re just too scared of him not to support him.”

  “I might believe it of Sanderis, but not Luciar. Luciar was delighted by the prospect of delivering me to Rith, I saw it in his eyes.”

  “I’m afraid I have to agree with you.”

  They continued in comfortable silence, the accord between them deepening. Such a short time ago, her plan had been to seduce him and try to manipulate him into getting her the stones. But with Rith’s attack, everything had changed.

  On every street they found another wrecked vehicle or more evidence of Rith’s destruction. There was no need for the humans and Esri to be enemies, but how could the humans not fear and hate their immortal brethren when treated with such callous cruelty? Such disrespect for life?

  “How much farther?” she asked after a while.

  “A few more blocks. We’re almost there.” He pulled out his phone and called Charlie. “We’ll be there in ten.”

  “We’re waiting,” his brother said.

  Harrison disconnected the call and glanced at her.

  She met his gaze with a fierce determination. “Killing one another isn’t our way, Harrison. But if you ever get the chance to kill Rith, you must take it. He’s the only known Caller in existence and stopping him is far more important than sealing the gates.”

  His brows drew down. “What are you saying?”

  “Rith will start looking for me the moment Luciar tells him I’m here. If the situation ever arises that Rith grabs me, as Luciar did, don’t risk trying to save me. Don’t risk losing your chance to stop him.”

  “You want me to just set you both on fire and sing the death chant?” He said the words simply, without emotion, as if clarifying a minor point. But a musc
le leaped in his jaw.

  “You must stop him, Harrison. Or both worlds are lost.”

  For a couple minutes he said nothing, his mouth hard. Finally he spoke. “I get why he’s a danger to us, but I don’t understand why he’s a threat to you.”

  Her hands clutched at the soft, slick fabric of her skirt. “The draggon stone has existed for as long as the Esri can remember, but the six green stones were created in the Temple of the Ancients only eight thousand years ago. Near history to us. They were created by the last king of Esria, Orisis. My grandfather.”

  Harrison frowned, but he listened, and she continued. “He was a Caller. One capable of calling dark magic from the draggon stone. Callers have existed in the past, though the talent is rare. Orisis found a way to use the combined power of the temple and the draggon stone to create the six green stones. He claimed they would increase the abundance of the land, and they do. But they do more than that.

  “Little by little, he learned to coax the dark magic from them until one day it broke free. The result was terrible. He was able to enslave our entire race, body and will, as the Esri now enslave the Marceils. The Esri knew what he was forcing them to do, yet were helpless to fight it. They became puppets in the hands of an evil master. And Orisis was truly evil.

  “For several years, the Esri suffered greatly. But over his long life Orisis had sired two children, a son who would become king after him, and a daughter who would later become my mother. In all of Esria, only Orisis’s son was free of his control since he, too, was a Caller. But unlike his father, he had no evil in his heart. When the opportunity finally arose, he killed him.”

  “He killed his own father,” Harrison murmured beside her. “And acquired a death mark.”

  “Yes.”

  “You can remove death marks with the help of the stones. He couldn’t?”

  “Not even a king can remove his own death mark. He kept everyone at bay, terrified they’d try to end him. The only one he let come near was his sister, my mother, which proved his last mistake. My mother never cared for anyone but herself.”

  “But she didn’t acquire a death mark because there’s no penalty for killing one already marked for death.”

  “Correct. My mother became queen and decreed that Callers were not to be suffered. Anyone killing one would be cleared of their death mark. Only a couple of Callers have been discovered since and they’ve both been ended. Until Rith. Unfortunately, the ability to sense that kind of power in others is an extremely rare gift, which, in recent centuries, has become far more rare. Shortly before I sealed the gates, before I met Rith and realized what he was, several Esri who were known to be able to sense power in others got caught and were killed during the Sitheen wars in the human world.”

  “Killed by Sitheen. By humans.”

  “Yes. I’ve always suspected Rith arranged their deaths.”

  “So they couldn’t betray the truth of what he was.”

  Ilaria nodded. “But Rith didn’t know about me or about my gift. I’d never made it known that I was able to sense power, for my gift was never a strong one. After I stole the stones from my mother, I brought them here and sealed the gates, where Rith would never find them. I tried to convince my mother that he was a Caller, but she refused to listen and it didn’t seem to matter any longer. And for a long time, it didn’t.”

  “Until he had her killed and then imprisoned you in the Forest of Nightmares. Why did he wait so long? Nearly twelve hundred years.”

  “I don’t know.” But she did. At least she was all too afraid she did. Without the draggon stone, her mother’s power had weakened. Slowly. Ever so slowly, until finally Rith was able to move against her. But if she admitted the truth to Harrison, he’d realize she wouldn’t leave the draggon stone behind this time. Once she came into her power, she’d not release the stone again.

  She glanced at him as they walked. “If he gets his hands on all seven stones, or even just the six dark ones, he’ll be unstoppable. That’s why he must be destroyed, no matter the cost.”

  His gaze met hers, his eyes piercing. “I’m not going to set you on fire, Ilaria. It’s not going to come to that.”

  “You can’t know… .”

  “Yes. I can. I’m not going to let it come to that.” His words rang of truth and a conviction she’d rarely heard in another. “We didn’t bring you here to let you die.”

  “Be ever mindful of the greater good, Harrison. Never forget it.”

  “I don’t intend to.” His eyes crinkled, a smile lighting their depths even though his mouth didn’t move.

  She returned the small smile, warmed all over again. He was a rare man, this one. But as she’d warned him not to lose sight of the greater good, neither could she. And the knowledge twisted sickly inside her. Because everything she’d said was true. Rith must be stopped at any cost. And if the only way for her to get the remaining stones and flee to Esria before Rith caught her meant the death of any or all of the Sitheen, then they would die. She’d have no choice.

  She could only hope it didn’t come to that, because the more time she spent with this human, the less she wanted to see him hurt. Within his chest beat the heart of a man of loyalty and honor. A man who, despite a sharp hatred of her kind, treated her with more respect than her own people did.

  Of all those in either world she could fight this battle beside, she would choose him.

  Until the time came that she must betray him.

  Chapter 8

  It was midmorning by the time Harrison and Ilaria finally reached Ft. McNair, the day cold and gray. At the gate, they found a car waiting for them and Harrison ushered her into the backseat, then followed her in.

  Ilaria gazed out the window, curious about this place they called a fort. She’d anticipated a grand castle or fortress, but the reality was far less imposing. Fenced, yes, but otherwise merely a small collection of low buildings surrounding a wide, grassy area. The term drill field came to mind, though what a drill field was, she didn’t know.

  Dotting the field and the perimeter road were puddles of dark fluid. Dozens of them.

  Even as she frowned, understanding swept over her with an ice-cold chill.

  Blood, each puddle evidence of another human death. So many puddles. So many dead.

  It was a wonder the humans didn’t kill every Esri they met on sight. But the human race, at least those she’d known, had always been a mix of the wise and the fearful. It was her good fortune, and possibly that of their entire race, that the Sitheen appeared to be made up of the former. Wise, strong men and women who fought to save their world.

  Wise enough to understand that the only way to stop Rith was to take the stones back to Esria and destroy them? She was afraid they wouldn’t accept that answer. She feared they’d see it as betrayal. Even Harrison. Especially Harrison.

  Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. If she’d sensed anything from this group, it was that they didn’t give up. She wasn’t sure what chance they stood against Rith now that he had the power of three of the stones, but they’d succeeded against other Esri, other foes.

  Maybe, just maybe, they’d defeat Rith, too. Then destroying the stones would no longer be of critical importance. As queen, she might be able to build some trust between the races, perhaps enough trust to reclaim the stones without a fight.

  All she could do now was try to earn the Sitheen’s trust while she aided them in beating Rith in any way she could.

  And pray it was enough.

  The car came to a stop. “They’re over by the water,” the driver told them.

  As she climbed from the car, she was hit by a startling thrill of power that danced over her skin, calling to her. The draggon stone. She’d always been drawn to its power through her royal blood. But never before had she felt it call to her in return, as if seeking its true queen. Her pulse leaped with anticipation at the prospect of holding it at last.

  What gifts might it bestow upon her? She’d heard it rumored that many o
f her mother’s unique talents—the ability to communicate telepathically, the ability to inflict pain with a wave of her hand—came to her through the draggon stone. As a child, Ilaria had wondered why the draggon stone didn’t give her gifts as it had her mother. It wasn’t until later that she’d learned that such gifts, if they came, were bestowed when a new king or queen came into his or her power. A rightful king or queen.

  Would that happen today? Here?

  “What’s the matter?” Harrison asked as they met at the rear of the car, his gaze sharp on her face. “Something happened.”

  She thought about prevaricating, then decided there was no need. “I can feel the draggon stone.”

  His expression turned probing and intent. “Can you sense all the stones or just the draggon?”

  Was that wariness she saw in his eyes? Her mouth compressed. “Only the draggon, the stone of royalty. The other six, the stones of Orisis, don’t call to me. They never have.”

  He nodded, then turned to where Charlie and three others waited, but he made no move toward them. She was all too afraid she knew why.

  “You do realize I have to touch them to remove their death marks,” she said quietly.

  His gaze swung back to her, more troubled than wary, she realized. “I know. I trust you.”

  An unspoken but lingered in the air between them—the knowledge that if that trust was misplaced, she could destroy his brother. And his friends.

  “Your trust is not misplaced, Harrison.” It was on the tip of her tongue to add, I won’t hurt them. But she couldn’t. Though she meant them no harm here and now, that was a promise she could make neither of them. “Trust me to remove their death marks as I said I would.”

  He watched her a moment more, his eyes probing as if they sought the secrets of her soul. Finally, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then nodded.

  She tried to smile, but the smile wouldn’t come. “Thank you.” She prayed his trust was warranted. But what the next hours would bring, none of them could know.

  Harrison took her hand and led her across a wide strip of brown grass toward the four people standing beneath one of the winter-bare trees that lined the water’s edge. She recognized Charlie and the tall, dark-haired Esri, Kaderil. She assumed the other two were Jack and Larsen.