by Kiersten Fay
A stuffy voice halted her step as Ava entered the great hall. Wren had to stop abruptly to keep from running into her.
“Avaline, why are you running, child?”
Ava huffed in a breath. “Aunt Idesse, the troops are back.”
“That is no reason for you to act like a commoner. The House of Dion is an ancient and respected family line. Take care to do us honor. You are lucky my sister, Odette, is not here to see.” Idesse was dressed, elegant as always, in purple flowing gown. The royal tailors probably spent months preparing every little detail to her specifications. Her long white hair shone like silver spun with ice. “Come.” She wrapped her arm with Ava’s. “Let us greet them together.”
Inwardly, Ava groaned, knowing she would have to walk at Idesse’s regal pace. She could practically hear Wren grinning behind her.
“How is your education progressing, darling?”
“Very well, Aunt Idesse.”
“And your gown for Sir Baret’s ball?”
“Uh...I don’t know. You would have to ask Terina.”
“You must keep on top of these things. How dreadful would it be if the wrong thread were used, or a button out of place. How embarrassing. I pity Nalphia, for one, poor girl has no taste at all. She is forever walking around in the most hideous garments. I asked her once who her tailor was, just so I would know who never to commission.”
As if doing her a great service, Idesse divulged the name of the offending tailor, and warned her to keep clear. Ava nodded, as she always did with Idesse, and tried to tamp down her eagerness to see Nadua.
Finally, they reached the palace entrance. The troops were coming up the long walkway. Ava smiled and waved at the men in greeting, but dropped her arm once they came closer, and their solemn faces came into view.
Her smile faded completely when Tamir came forward and dismounted his edisdon to kneel before her. “Princess, I regret to inform you...”
Ava couldn’t recall his next words. Her world had split in two and the sound of it was deafening. She backed away, not wanting to hear any more. A warm hand clasped her shoulder—Wren—but her eyes were too blurred to see him clearly.
A moment later, she found herself racing through the halls of the castle, not quite sure where she planned to go. Anywhere to get away. Anywhere where she could see Nadua again.
* * *
Marik trudged through the darkening forest with growing frustration.
He’d been so close to taking her. Her soft lips had been so welcoming, and surprisingly eager, making him imagine what else her lips might be eager for.
Marik groaned, his shaft hardening once again, even though he had just brought himself to come, twice—the whole while watching her from a distance, as she explored the shallow cave.
And still he couldn’t keep his thoughts from Nadua. Even now, his instincts were clamoring for him to race back to her and bury himself inside her. A hint of her arousal still swirled in his head.
And she had been aroused, almost desperately. At least at first. Her eyes had gone stark when Marik was ready to strip her of that damn cloak, and she’d nearly begged him to stop. Snapped from the Edge, he’d gone from thinking he would die without feeling her flesh against his, to releasing her and drawing away.
The astonishing thing about it was that Marik hadn’t blacked out. He’d been almost coherent, which, for being as deeply on the Edge as he was, was unusual. Perhaps she had some sort of power over him. Maybe that was her gift...Some kind of inherent control over those around her. It would explain her rise to power over those archaic people.
Or maybe it was that he was finally learning self-control.
He could only hope for the latter, because the next time the Edge claimed him, he feared nothing would stop him from satiating his lust on Nadua’s firm little body. Not even her lingering fear of him.
Clearing his head, Marik continued his hunt. He was searching for not only tonight’s meal, but that mysterious clawed creature who had robbed him of his prey. If it had been a wild beast defending its territory, it should have stuck around to attack Marik too.
What was even more unsettling, all three bodies were gone when Marik went to check the markings again. No traces of footprints gave any evidence of who, or what, had taken them.
Marik hurried so he could get back to Nadua.
* * *
The demon came back to the cave just before darkness fell, panting like he just run the length of the valley and back. He had with him a small catch of yellowbacks—small furry creatures, about the size of Nadua’s hand. They were mostly white, but for the line of yellow that ran along their backs. Hence the name.
When she was still learning this planet, Nadua had thought them cute, until one of the nasty things had speared her with its teeth. They were razor sharp and excreted a mild venom. Her hand had been swollen for the rest of the day.
With twilight dwindling, Nadua and Marik built a small fire for cooking. Nadua cozied up to it as best she could. The cave wasn’t very deep, and gusts of wind periodically swept the heat away. Marik sat across from her. Eye contact between them was minimal.
The meat was cooked to perfection, tender and juicy, with a hint of something Nadua couldn’t describe. While Marik was cooking, Nadua had watched with curiosity as he crushed up a mix of hard roots and sprinkled them across the sizzling meat. He said he’d pulled them from the ground. It added a delightful sweetness.
“You have quite a talent,” she said, recalling him mentioning something about being a skilled cook. At the time she assumed he’d been feeding her nonsense.
Marik shrugged in response.
His mood had been somewhat sour since his return. Every so often, he would glance through the cave hole, into the dark forest. She wondered if their earlier discussion still affected him. Or what had gone unfinished. She considered broaching the subject but decided against it.
They enjoyed the rest of their meal in silence. Nadua figured he would go the rest of the night without saying more than a few words to her, so when he spoke next, it surprised her.
“The one that threw the ice.” He paused. “You called him a kay-something. What does that mean?”
“Kaiylemi. It’s a master of ice. Not all Cyrellians, but a few, I’m not sure how many, can somehow manipulate ice. Make it do what they want.”
“Then, it was a Kaiylemi who tried to imprison you in ice? Was it the same one as today?”
“A very powerful Kaiylemi had made that cage. I don’t believe it was the same person. The one from today could only manipulate small pieces of ice, probably had been very young. No doubt those nomads felt very lucky to have had him in their group. Kaiylemi’s are not as common as they used to be.”
After another short silence, Nadua asked, “What is it like on Marada?” If she were going to be taking up residence there, she might as well know about it.
Her question must have pulled him from a deep thought because he looked up at her with an almost vacant gaze. “It’s great. The ship provides everything we need, and then some. It’s more like a high class cruising ship. You’ll be right at home there, I bet.”
Nadua forced a smile. For the longest time, she accepted that her home was with Ava, even though she’d always known her time here was temporary.
Marik continued. “There’s entertainment, a large room for exercise, an entire deck called the Sanctuary, where plants grow to the ceiling—”
“Plants?” She leaned forward. “You have live plants on board?”
He nodded, adding, “And a heated pool.”
A heated pool!
There was nothing like that on Undewla. The Cyrellian’s had no need for such a thing.
“Well, we must find this Marada at once!” That pulled a large grin from him and she felt gratified by the small achievement. That is, until her next inquiry. “Do you have family there?”
The happiness seeped out of him. Pain flashed in his eyes before he schooled his features. Nadua got t
he sense that she’d asked the worst possible question.
“No family.” is all he said, and then he began arranging the pallet. One pallet, she noticed, even though she had her furs and the fire had finally risen the temperature around them to a comfortable degree.
But when he motioned for her to join him, the protest on the back of her throat died away when she grudgingly admitted to herself that was where she wanted to be. The realization had her questioning her own sanity—amending that it was only because she hadn’t been with a man in over four hundred years that she yearned for the possessive way he held her during the night.
Once she was in place, Marik lazily fingered the material of her pelt.
“I hate this,” he declared. “I don’t like the way it covers your scent. Once we’re on Marada, I’m burning it.” Then his arm came around her, pulling her close.
Nadua was of a similar opinion. At times her cloak felt like a cage she couldn’t escape, though she hadn’t known about the scent thing. However, she was grateful for the protection it provided.
“If I feel I won’t ever need it again, I might just let you.” It was unlikely that she would ever come back to visit Ava. “Marik?”
“Hmm.” He sounded half asleep already.
“Promise me I will be able to say goodbye to Ava before we leave.”
There was a heavy silence. “I don’t know if I can make that promise.”
Her body tensed. “I won’t leave without seeing her.”
At length he replied, “Perhaps we can come back, sometime in the future.”
We?
“Not good enough. Promise me.” When he made no sound Nadua added, “She’s like a sister to me. Please.”
He sighed. “Alright, Nadua. I’ll do what I can.”
* * *
Nadua looked up at a raging crowd. She was standing in some sort of pit while the onlookers screamed and shouted from their seats. It reminded her of the plays and tournaments that were performed back at the palace, but there was something much more sinister going on here. The people’s faces were twisted in anger, their eyes shining with malevolence.
Movement to her right pulled her attention to a bleeding, broken mass. The man’s slashed back was facing her, his body struggling to pull itself off the ground. She realized who it was before he turned.
Bile rose in her throat.
Two men with whips were striking him again and again from behind the safety of thick shafts of metal.
With a snarl, Marik launched at them, only to be thwarted by the bars. The whipping increased with enthusiasm, pushing Marik back in the middle of the pit. The sounds of agony he made tore at her heart. She tried to look away, but couldn’t.
The crowd cheered with Marik’s vicious roars, making her hate every one of them. Nadua could see in his vacant red eyes that he was lost to madness, filled with such hollowness that she couldn’t picture this demon as the same Marik she knew. He wasn’t the man who held her with surprising gentleness.
He was a beast, nothing more.
I don’t want to see anymore.
Unfortunately, Nadua had never been able to control her visions. She couldn’t make them start, and she couldn’t make them stop. She had to keep watching.
To her horror, at the height of Marik’s torture, a woman dressed in poor clothing was dropped into the pit. She scrambled away, screaming and clutching the walls. Her foreign pleas echoed in the arena. The crowd went mad with excitement. A sick feeling nearly forced Nadua to double over.
Marik’s gaze settled on the woman. The girl cried out to those who were standing above her, looking over the edge and laughing.
Nadua begged her mind to make it stop.
When the booing began, Nadua looked at Marik, who had moved as far from the woman as he could get. His face was twisted in rage, his fists were opening and closing with the anticipation of violence, but he remained frozen.
Then he charged. It wasn’t the woman he went after, it was the walls around him, the ground under him. The cement splintered as he cracked his fist into it over and over, bloodying his knuckles. He went on like that until he collapsed from exhaustion. The crowd was riotous, denied the brutality they craved.
Four massive bodies entered the pit. Nadua kept an intense focused on the two that held Marik still, while keeping her back to the other two, who were working on placating the deranged mob.
After it was all over, the people threw rocks into the pit as they left. Marik took each hit huddled with his back to the broken body left behind.
Her vision blurred and Nadua hovered in that mysterious space between sleep and awake, every detail of the dream burned into her mind. Was it only a nightmare?
She opened her eyes to ask Marik about it, but an unfamiliar face was gazing down at her.
Nadua screamed.
Chapter 13
“I’ll kill you, pirate!” Sonya lunged at the man pilfering her liquor.
He dodged quite well for someone who’d just been guzzling straight from a bottle. They were standing in the storage room of her pub, and she was blocking the only exit.
“Calm yourself, female. I was just sampling the product to see what would be best to recommend to our clients.”
“My clients!” She growled as her horns began to glow against her straight black hair.
“I’ll pay for the liquor, it was only a drop.”
“Damn right you’ll pay for it! And that bottle was nearly full till you got your hands on it.”
The bastard had the gall to roll his eyes at her. “Very well, I’ll buy you another bottle. What’s the big deal?”
What’s the big deal?
The big deal was she had to see this damn pirate every day! Had to train him to work in her pub, and even pay him a salary! A kindness forced upon her by her big brother, Sebastian.
Ethanule brushed his blond hair back, revealing his slightly pointed ears. The pirate was from the same race as her best friend, Anya, but they couldn’t be more different from each other. Anya was sweet and loveable. Ethanule was arrogant—almost more so than Sonya’s other brother, Cale, if that were even possible—and thought himself superior to demons.
With a slur in his voice, Ethanule tipped the scale of her anger from enraged to murderous by saying, “You know, you’re rather attractive when you’re pissed off. You should remain that way all the time.”
She swung at him, but again she missed. How could he be so fast, especially drunk? Sonya blamed the confined space. She wasn’t used to fighting in such small quarters. Besides, she didn’t want to disturb the many bottles lining the walls.
“What’s going on?” A soft voice that Sonya instantly recognized came from the doorway.
“Princess!” Ethanule greeted Anya with a smile.
Sonya took advantage of his temporary distraction. She latched her tail around the almost empty bottle still grasped in his hand, and then flung it hard into the side of his head. The glass shattered, and a smile spread across her lips as he went down.
Anya shrieked. “What are you doing?” She rushed past and knelt beside the pirate’s limp body. “Ethan?”
“His head is far too thick for me to do any real damage.” When Anya gave her a chiding look, Sonya whined, “He was stealing my liquor.”
“You two have got to stop fighting. Sebastian and I are leaving for Undewla soon and you’ll be acting as captain. If you want your pub to stay open, then you need him. Everyone else is occupied with their own jobs. Sebastian had to pull one of the mechanics to work the galley.”
“Yeah, and the food just isn’t the same.”
With worry etched in her features, Anya’s head dropped. She continued to blame herself for Marik’s situation.
“It’s not your fault. And you’ll find him, don’t fret. Marik can take care of himself. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Ethan grumbled from the floor, “That was a cheap shot, demon witch.” Gripping his head, he sat up.
Sonya couldn’t help
but smirk. “But I thought I was oh-so pretty when I was angry? Change your mind, did you?
“Indeed.”
Both she and Anya watched as he summoned his gift. Ethanule could heal himself and others. At the spot where blood was matting in his blond hair, he placed his hand. A bright light erupted underneath. Sonya shielded her eyes from it. When it was over he stood, a bit wobbly. Whether it was from the hit or the stolen alcohol, Sonya didn’t know.
“That tail of yours is wicked. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on it from now on.”
“You do that!”
Wait, had she just given him permission to check out her tail?
“Just keep your eyes on my pub, and if I catch you sneaking drinks again, you might not be able to heal after what I’ll do to you.”
* * *
Marik woke fully on the Edge and found that his hands gripping the neck of someone threatening his woman. Cords of confusion tangle in his brain.
Not my woman. Nadua.
He roared at the man pinned up against the cavern wall. A pair of horns, similar to his own, poked through the man’s sandy blond hair, causing Marik’s murky mind to swirl.
A lithe voice urged him to cease, but he had to protect what was his. Marik’s grip tightened.
“Marik! Stop! He just startled me.” When Marik didn’t back off, she added, “He’s not fighting.”
Nadua was right. His eyes had not gone red. His horns remained cool. He wasn’t showing fangs, and his arms were limp at his side.
Marik pulled away from the Edge as best he could, easing his hold slightly, but not enough for the stranger to move. “Who are you?”
Nadua gasped. “What? You don’t know him?”
Sucking in a breath, the man responded, “My name is Rex.” After another breath he added, “Did Orson send you?”
Marik let go and backed away, placing himself in front of Nadua. “I don’t know any Orson.” Aggression still coursed through him, but curiosity started to overrule.
