"Not always predictable?" The phrase could've applied to the entire fortress. Ciara blinked. She had a hard time determining if things were blurry because of the wavering witch light, or the knock to her head.
"Ciara?" A hint of impatience hardened Bolin's voice.
"Go." She pushed him away.
He turned and brushed past Sandeen, leaving the witch light to bob in the air mid-way between them. Its faint illumination showed sloping walls close in on both sides, and a ceiling so low Sandeen's ears brushed against it. In front of them, and behind, nothing but darkness the witch light couldn't penetrate. Ciara tried to make her breathing deep, and calm, telling herself they would soon be safely out of Donovan's fortress. But the stifling confines of the passageway became overwhelming.
Though her hands were raw from Sandeen's tail ripping through her grip when she fell, Ciara grabbed hold of it again. She looked nervously over her shoulder. The skin between her shoulder blades prickled, and she crowded against Sandeen.
By all the unholies, how much longer would this take? Ciara sucked in a shallow breath, and then another as her chest began to tighten. The walls seemed to close in with each step. She focused on the witch light, but the glow of it hurt her eyes so she stared at Sandeen's ghostly shape instead.
And then it seemed the darkness ahead of them brightened. A few more steps and the witch light became lost in the increasing glare. Ciara shielded her eyes as the light grew stronger, and the darkness faded away behind them.
Fresh air wafted over her as they emerged from the passageway. The late evening sun streaked across the broken landscape, and Ciara sighed with relief. She let Sandeen’s tail slip out of her grasp. A glance back showed only the high, black wall surrounding the fortress, an unbroken surface with no sign of the passageway they had just exited.
Bolin didn't pause but continued to lead Sandeen down the rough embankment towards more level footing. Ciara picked her way across the tumbled boulders as quickly as she dared. Her head still throbbed, and she had to squint to see clearly. By the time she reached Bolin, he had already mounted. He reached a hand down for her and Ciara hesitated.
"We've no time for delay," he snapped. "Unless you'd like to present yourself back into Donovan's hands."
"No. But-"
"Then get on."
She frowned but locked wrists with him and slipped her foot into the vacated stirrup to swing up behind him. She wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and felt him tense. Then they were moving, Sandeen picking his way confidently among the boulders and jagged rocks. Ciara had forgotten what a bleak and rough land the Nethers were.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"For now, the Greensward. Galys Auld in the ancient tongue, to someone who may have paid attention to her lessons."
Ciara ignored the barb with an effort. "Is it far?"
"If nothing delays us we should be there before sunset tomorrow."
"Will Donovan follow us?"
He glanced over his shoulder at her. "What do you think?"
Ciara bit her bottom lip. "I’m sorry I got you into this."
"You aren't to blame," he said.
Ciara snorted. "And the sun doesn’t rise."
"It does. Daily. And no amount of regret or wishing will make it otherwise."
The web of magic Bolin had woven around them lingered until they were well under way. Ciara felt it dissipate in the same instant the pendant went cold and heavy against her breast and Bolin sucked in a quick, hard breath.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
He held himself stiff in the saddle, as though the slightest movement caused pain. "Aye."
"You're lying." Ciara realized that when he released his working, he let her healing spell go along with it. "You're not invincible, Bolin. How far do you think you'll make it if you don't let me help you?"
He didn't answer. Ciara closed her eyes, and in her mind she traced the image of the sigils on her pendant -- the gentle, round curve of her mother’s blending with the more angular twists of her aunt’s. She refused to touch upon the Goddess’s. The pendant warmed with the steady pulse of familiar magic. She drew it out and twisted it around the words of the healing spell she whispered. Risking refusal and anger -- neither of which came -- she wrapped it around Bolin like a blanket.
Her head pounded, and exhaustion washed over her. She leaned against Bolin's back, rested her cheek on his shoulder, and gave herself over to the steady movement of Sandeen beneath them.
* * *
As much as he wanted to, Bolin couldn't prevent Ciara's embrace in either the physical or magical sense. Getting them free of the fortress had meant bending the pendant's magic to his own purposes -- purposes it hadn't been intended for -- and the task had pushed him to his limit. The fortress's builders had been masters of more than masonry. They knew how to use and manipulate ancient magic like no one else. The danger of taking their hidden passageway had been far greater than he'd suggested to Ciara.
He drew a breath, grateful for the healing spell that made it possible to do so without pain. Despite her own beliefs on the matter, Ciara would make an excellent healer, given time. Not, however, if the Imperial Mages got their way.
She snuggled closer to him and her hands slipped down to his lap. Bolin tensed. Donovan had pushed Ciara at him when his defenses were in shreds. The unintentional kiss, and her reaction to it, tormented him more than physical pain ever could. If he'd have seen that kiss through to its conclusion the act would have undone years of carefully cultivated discipline. It would have thrown him in the lap of power he couldn't have resisted. Bolin would have taken that power as he would have taken her, and Ciara would have fought him.
The thought sent a shudder through him and Ciara mumbled something in her sleep. He needed to quiet his thoughts. She would be safe at Galys Auld. There were those living in the Greensward older and wiser than he. They would protect Ciara until he had a chance to confer with the Emperor. At least there she would be out of Donovan's reach.
He scowled. When had his life become so complicated? The politics of the imperial court were simpler. Hells, even war had been easy by comparison. Fighting in the name of the Emperor and the Goddess had a purpose, and not for the first time he wished the Goddess had chosen to take him in battle.
But, it remained a sad truth that his wishes and the Goddess’s plans did not often coincide.
* * *
The sun set long before they reached the sheltering cover of trees that marked the southern fringes of the Nethers, and would eventually give over to the thick forests of Galys Auld. The moon peered above the horizon under a thin veil of clouds. lending its wan light to the fractured landscape. They were leagues from Donovan’s fortress, but still not far enough for Bolin to feel at ease. Donovan would be after them as soon as he realized they were gone. Losing Bolin again would wound his pride. To lose Ciara cut much deeper.
And she would draw him to her like blossoms drew the bee.
None of which mattered because Bolin couldn't go any further. He halted Sandeen in a sheltering ring of pines and reached back to give Ciara a gentle shake.
"Are we there?" she asked, her voice sleepy.
"No, but we all need a rest."
She slid off Sandeen, and the quiet spell she'd wrapped around him slipped away with her. Pain and exhaustion returned in its wake. Ciara stretched, and surveyed their surroundings. She glanced at Bolin, still seated on Sandeen's back. He didn't trust his legs to hold him, but dropped his stirrups and flipped his leg over the back of the saddle. Ciara steadied him as he landed, her face a mask of concern, a quiet fear lurking in her eyes.
"Bolin-"
"I'm fine," he said, with more of a growl than he meant.
Ciara scowled at him and stepped back, her fists on her hips. "Of course you are. Are we making camp here?"
Bolin nodded. "At least until the moon is fully up."
Ciara continued to study him, her expression guarded. He imagined he
looked like something that had crawled out of a cesspit. Goddess knew, he smelled like it.
"I trust you can manage a fire?" Bolin asked, as much to distract Ciara as himself.
The corners of her mouth pulled downward. "Of course."
He nodded and turned to Sandeen. He loosened the girth and slipped the bit from the stallion’s mouth, but left the bridle on. He could feel her behind him. She hadn’t moved.
"Fires don’t normally make themselves," he said.
"Do you think a fire wise?"
"Do you think Donovan can't find you, fire or no?" He turned and instantly regretted his words. Ciara’s eyes were wide, her mouth open in shock as the reality of that sunk in. Bolin took a step toward her and stopped. "I’ll set wards." He resisted the urge to follow through on his impulse to draw her into his arms. "If you allow me the use of the pendant again."
Her eyes flashed, fear replaced by sudden, quick anger. A look -- like lightening across the night sky -- that put him in mind of someone else. "Why bother asking now?"
He raised his brows. "Would you have preferred we stayed there?"
"I would've preferred some consideration for once."
Bolin said nothing for a long while, and when he finally spoke his words surprised her. "I’m sorry I couldn't give you that courtesy. I do so now."
His apology rendered her speechless and the heat went out of her. She averted her gaze, and reached up to caress the pendant. Her brow furrowed when she looked up at him, emotion swirling in the depth of her eyes. She reached behind her neck and unclasped the pendant's chain. Taking Bolin's hand in hers, Ciara laid the necklace in his palm, and curled his fingers closed over it.
"I want you to have it," she said, and looked anywhere but at him.
The pendant nestled warm against his skin, as warm as her hand covering his. Neither one of them moved for far too long. Bolin cleared his throat. "Ciara."
She backed away, and shook her head. "No. Just keep it." She turned, her face hidden from him. "I’ll see to the fire."
* * *
Oh, of all the idiots on the Goddess’s green earth, Ciara must surely be the queen. She had told herself she'd be strong enough to face off to Bolin and get answers. That she'd be more than just so much baggage perched on Sandeen’s rump. Then she turned around and handed him the most precious thing she had.
Why?
Why, why, why had she given him the pendant? Had he asked for it? Had he forced her to hand it over? No. He’d asked to use it. Something he hadn’t done in the first place. And instead of just telling him yes -- as if no would have worked -- she gave it to him. Then, to make matters worse, she stood there holding his hand like a lovesick girl, not daring to breath. If the Goddess had any love for Ciara, she would make the whole thing never to have happened.
But the Goddess had about as much love for Ciara, as Ciara had for her. So, like every other embarrassing moment in her life, she would just have to accept it.
When she finally calmed down enough to stop gathering wood, and her arms had about all they could carry, Ciara turned back to their makeshift camp site. She dumped her armload of wood in the spot Bolin had cleared. When she finished arranging it, she sat back on her haunches, only then realizing she had no way to start a fire.
She looked up at Bolin. "He’s warded my earth magic. He told me he wouldn't remove them. That I'd have to do it myself. I thought, away from him, away from the fortress -- I didn’t think they’d hold."
Her chin quivered to match the waver in her voice. Why did it matter anyhow? Hadn't she repeatedly denounced all affinity with anything even remotely having to do with the Goddess? So why did it feel like part of her was missing?
She looked up at Bolin, and her eyes burned with unwelcome tears. "Could you-"
She looked at the pile of wood as Bolin hunkered down across from her. She shouldn't be asking him for anything. He looked a mess, and probably felt worse than that. She met his gaze. "Can you remove Donovan's wards?"
Bolin shook his head. "Not if he’s warded you against me as well."
"Would you at least try?" she whispered.
He rubbed a hand across his chin. "I'm not sure it'd be wise."
She blinked. A tear spilled over, and she wiped it hastily away, but not before Bolin saw it. She couldn't remember a time when her earth magic hadn't been a part of her, but she could barely feel it now. She didn't have anything left of her mother and her aunt, besides the pendant -- and now she didn't have that, either. It felt like losing them all over again.
Bolin sighed. "If I try this, you can't fight me. Do you understand? No matter what happens."
Ciara nodded.
"No matter what," he repeated.
"I won't." She’d be as still and quiet as a rock if it meant Donovan’s hold on her would be broken. Even if it took every bit of self control she had, or Meriol ever wished she had.
But still he hesitated, his expression unreadable in the dim moonlight.
"Please, Bolin."
The breeze pushed her hair across her face, and she brushed it away. The night became unbearably quiet. Sandeen’s harness and the sounds of him pulling up and munching the short grass were the only sounds. Ciara held her breath. She didn't want to plead with him.
Bolin nodded, and Ciara let the breath out in a gust. He moved closer and sat in front of her, taking her hands in his. His gaze locked with hers. Goddess’ light, she hoped she could hold the contact long enough. It felt as though he could see her very soul -- every thought, every emotion that raged through her. The magic of the pendant flowed around them, a familiar, warm touch against her skin that helped calm the frantic racing of her heart. In Bolin’s hands it seemed brighter, and so much stronger.
Ciara felt Donovan's wards tremble as Bolin drew close -- a spider-light quivering along her nerves. She twitched and his grip tightened. Beyond the wards lay her now silent earth magic, and beyond that the coiled mass of the wilding -- Andrakaos. She couldn't stop herself from thinking his name and he lifted his shadowed head. Ciara tensed. Too late she tried to push his name, and the image of him, out of her thoughts.
Be still, Bolin reminded her, his mental tone as sharp as if he'd actually said the words.
The wilding -- it helped if she thought of it as that -- no longer had bindings on it. No wards surrounded the ethereal chamber, and it uncoiled as Bolin drew near. Curiosity and desire swept through Ciara, and her mouth went dry. The rush of emotion whipped around them like a gust of wind but Bolin ignored it. He reached out to touch the wards, and they crackled and hissed. The wilding edged closer. Bolin ran his hand across the surface of Donovan's handiwork, and Ciara trembled as though it were her skin he caressed. He began to whisper -- a cadenced chant Ciara's ears couldn't decipher. The words took shape. They moved around him in a gentle, easy flow, surrounding him as he eased past the wards.
Warmth flowed through Ciara's body as Bolin stepped into the glow of her earth magic, followed by a torrent of sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. It felt -- right -- a sense of completeness, as though some part of her had been missing until now. She wanted to hold onto that feeling, to hold onto Bolin and never let him go. They belonged to one another.
Without warning he raised his hands and shoved outwards. Ciara felt Donovan's wards bow, but they didn't give. Words swarmed around Bolin like gnats -- old words, powerful words. Ciara couldn't understand them, but she could feel them. They reached deep inside her, and resonated like a drum beat that rose up through the earth.
Andrakaos knew the words.
Bolin shoved against the wards again, harder. A slender crack fractured their surface, and with a sound like shattering glass they blew outwards. Ciara cried out. Curiosity and desire turned to red hot anger and ripped through Ciara with the force of a tempest. The air sucked from her lungs. She made a desperate grab for the wilding, but Bolin got there first.
He stood motionless in the face of Andrakaos, as the pendant's magic and her own earth magic spun
gossamer threads around him. Bolin lifted his hand and the anger subsided. Andrakaos stretched out for his touch, and a fist closed around Ciara's heart. Her throat tightened. Bolin meant to take her power just as Donovan had warned her he would. He meant to claim it for his own.
But while Bolin stroked Andrakaos with one hand, he quietly called Ciara’s earth magic to his other. Free of its bonds, it came to him. As gently as if he handled a baby, Bolin encircled Andrakaos with it, all the while murmuring soothing words. They flowed through Ciara like a lover's touch, and the wilding sank back into its coil without a fight.
Ciara gasped, and jerked back into the here and now, blinking Bolin’s face into focus. He'd asked her something. "Wha -- what?" She started to shake.
"Are you all right?" He rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumb, real concern on his face.
"I . . . think so."
He ducked his head to catch her eye, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Ciara?"
"I'm all right," she said. "Really."
But he held her gaze a moment longer before dropping her hands. "Good." The mask snapped back in place. "Then I believe you can light the fire now."
* * *
Flames leapt across the wood with a whispered word, and Ciara settled cross-legged beside it watching Bolin as he patrolled the perimeter of their small camp for the fifth time. As he turned the firelight glinted wetly on his tunic and Ciara's breath caught. Goddess's light, she'd done nothing to tend to his wounds. She got to her feet and intercepted him when he would have made another round, taking him by the arm and leading him toward a fallen log.
"Sit," she said. Amazingly he did, without argument. And he did nothing to stop her when she lifted his tunic to inspect the cut across his stomach. Dried blood crusted the edges, but his pacing had reopened it. "There isn't much I can do without water or bandaging."
"It'll have to keep until tomorrow then. There's a river we'll be crossing by mid-morning. We can take a rest there."
First Of Her Kind (Book 1) Page 19
