She cut him off. “No one knew who would drink the juice. It could have been you lying in a hospital bed instead of Dal.” Her jaw dropped. “Do you think─”
“That it could have been another assassination attempt? The thought crossed my mind.” His mouth curved downward. “Dal will recover, but I had to reassign everyone’s task. I should check in, if my signal works from this location. Paz may have news.”
****
Relief flooded him when Paz answered his hail.
“Rageesh, I was worried. You missed your last call.”
“Sorry, I was unable to get a signal through before. Nira is here with me.” He hoped Paz wouldn’t reveal anything sensitive in her presence. “Have you news of Dal’s condition?”
“He improves, but Yaron fears to leave him. What are your orders?”
Zohar considered their options. While Borius and Kaj patrolled the ley lines, no one tracked the illegal arms shipments to the Trolleks except his off-world friend. Should he pull Yaron from Dal’s bedside to work on that problem? He didn’t want to leave Dal vulnerable to attack.
“Let Yaron stay with him for now, but have him move Dal to the ship as soon as possible. Yaron can figure out an excuse to transfer him from the medical facility.”
“Acknowledged. We may have another snag, sire.”
“What now?”
“I cannot raise Kaj on his comm frequency.”
“Has’pute.” The Karellian curse slipped from his lips. “He could be out of range. See if you can track his shuttle.”
A sense of hopelessness glued his feet to the ground. He should be there with his men, not here chasing some fool’s errand.
His glance slid to Nira, whose crown of red hair shone like burnished copper in the fading sunlight. Ever since they’d met, his life had become more complicated.
“Have you gained anything from your analysis of the data crystals?” he asked Paz. They still needed to learn why the Trolleks were collecting human blood samples. Nira’s record might hold the answer.
“Nothing conclusive yet.”
Did Zohar detect a note of evasion in his communication officer’s voice? “All right. Keep me informed.”
“When do you estimate returning to the ship, sire?”
He glanced at his chronometer. “In the morning. It is nineteen hundred hours local time.” That is, if they were back in the real world again. They had to be back, since his comm unit worked.
“Understood. Signing off.”
Nira remained standing, a wary expression on her face. “I’m glad Dal is better.”
“Me, too.” He cleared his throat. “Before you changed the subject, I told you I had returned to the Trollek village.”
“I changed the subject? Excuse me? Would you rather I not care about what happens to any of you?” She stomped her foot. “What’s going on, Zohar? Spit it out.”
“My mouth is clean. I have nothing to spit.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. It’s another colloquialism. Tell me what’s on your mind and why you’re acting so damn strange.”
He spread his feet, arms folded across his chest. “You lied to me. The Trollek chieftain was not knocked out with a blow to his head. You killed him.”
Nira’s mouth opened and closed like a gupper fish in the Sargosi Sea. “I can explain.”
“Then do so.”
She bent her head. “I was brought to his room. He put his hands on me, and I pushed him away.” Her voice hitched. “I-I don’t mean physically. I just, sort of, closed a mental door. I meant to, like, block him out, you know. The next thing I knew, he wasn’t breathing.”
Zohar stared at her in horror. “You murdered a powerful Trollek chieftain with a mere thought?” His voice rose on the last words.
Her gaze lifted, pleading. “Please don’t condemn me. I don’t understand how it happened.”
“You are worse than a Trollek.” He backed away. “Is that what happened to the detective who followed you? You wished him out of your way?”
Her face drained of color. “I already told you how he died. A wolf attacked us and swallowed Carlson whole. The wolf was really Fenrir, a Fire Giant in disguise.”
“Where is your proof?”
Her eyes welled with moisture, and he felt a surge of guilt for interrogating her so ruthlessly, but he had to be sure of her loyalties.
She reached into her pants pocket and yanked out a cord. “Here, see if you believe me now.”
“What is that?”
“The magic ribbon that bound the wolf.” She repeated the fable, told him about a conversation with her sisters, and reiterated what the psychics had predicted.
When she finished, the sun had drifted lower on the horizon. “So you have all negatives to report,” he concluded. “The police are watching our safe house. You released an ancient beast bent on vengeance. Doomsday approaches, and you have a power that you cannot explain or control.”
Nodding, she grinned, her face transforming as he appeared to accept her story. “Look at the positives: Grace is likely still alive. Dal will recover. My power, whatever it means, is part of my destiny to stop Ragnarok from coming to pass again.”
Zohar’s face split into a wide smile. “I like your attitude, little one. You do not accept defeat.”
“As long as we’re laying all our cards on the table, you have a few things to tell me.” She brushed a stray hair off her face.
His gaze followed the movement then roamed south to her mouth. As the moon rose, so did his desire for this woman who wouldn’t be intimidated. “I do not possess any cards. Do you think they would be useful when we meet the elves? The tree god said they like to gamble.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s another expression, big guy. It means, spill it out, or tell me what you’re hiding. As in, what does rageesh mean? You don’t like it when your pals call you by that title.”
He sank onto the boulder, his fingers splaying on its cool surface. Would revealing his identity change the way she felt about him? Did he care if it did?
“Rageesh is an honorary title, used to address the crown prince of the Star Empire.”
She gaped at him, while he admired the tawny lights in her eyes. “You’re joking, right? I thought you were leader of the Drift Lords.”
He patted the seat next to him, and she sat. Her womanly scent drifted into his nostrils, making him fight an urge to slide closer. “So I am. I choose to serve my people in this capacity.”
“But what happens when…when your father dies? Then you go back to Karrell and assume the throne?”
“My father is already dead. I have appointed a regent to rule in my stead.”
“Oh.”
Zohar changed the subject before she could question him further. “I should also confess I brought Paz a sample of your hair to check your DNA.” He shot her a look of apology. “I wondered about your influence on the guest in Drift World.”
Her lips pursed. “That’s another manifestation of my power. Remember how I get a buzzing sound in my head when I’m around Trolleks? When I push against that mental door to shut out the noise, I break the spell on confounded humans. Or at least, then I can command them.”
“You can command confounded humans?” A chill crept up his spine at her admission.
“It means I can free them from their Trollek kabak.” She thrust her chin at a defiant angle. “That’s a good thing, Zohar.”
“Ack.” He made a choked sound. Her talent was still too close to Trollek mind control to make him comfortable. Worse, she could kill someone with a mere thought.
Yet if they discovered what gave her such a unique ability, maybe they could create a vaccine or an antidote to the Trollek touch.
“There is one more thing.” He leaned forward, gripping his knees. “When we were in the village the first time, I came across a sealed room used to…to vaporize people.”
“What?” Her round eyes reflected the moonlight.
“It appeared to be a crema
torium of sorts, using energy weapons. Records were being stored there as well. I swiped a couple of data crystals for Paz to decipher.”
“Do you think this relates to the experiments the Trolleks are conducting?”
“It is likely the method they use to remove evidence.”
“You mean, when test subjects die.”
He nodded, his throat constricted. They had too many mysteries to solve, and meanwhile, his team was being decimated. He needed to get back to them.
Sounds of laughter reached his ears. He shot to his feet, listening intently. Nira sprang up at his side.
Singing ebbed and flowed on the breeze. It came from behind a line of trees edging the woods, away from the lake.
Zohar took several steps forward then stopped when a luminous glow lit the forest in front of them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“We may have found the elves.” Excitement caught Nira in its grip, and her concerns about Zohar slipped away.
Almost. What about his bombshell about being crown prince of a star empire? No wonder he acted so imperious. It just brought home the fact that one day he’d leave her world to fulfill his duties elsewhere.
Never mind that now. She had to complete her quest, return to Mimir, and drink from the magic fountain. Then she had to find Grace and figure out a way to get her home.
She stood to her full five-feet six-inches. “Let’s go.”
Zohar’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight. The moon cast diamond sparkles across the lake. “Do we have a plan? How do you expect to get this golden hairpin?”
“How should I know? We’ll play it by ear.”
“What is wrong with your ear?” He peered at her head with a worried expression.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Come on, Zohar.”
She winced each time one of them scrunched on a pile of dried leaves or stumbled on a root. Shadowy figures moved among the trees ahead.
Would the elves scatter if humans made an appearance?
“Hold out your necklace, the one Askr gave you.” She tapped Zohar’s shoulder.
“Why?”
“He said it would protect you. Maybe showing it will work in our favor.”
“Good point.”
From the expression on his face, she could tell the mythology baffled him, but that was okay. She could handle it, as long as he fought by her side.
With Zohar in the lead, they broke through the cluster of thin trunks framing a pastoral clearing. Fireflies flitted about, their lights blinking on and off, but that wasn’t the only source of illumination. A campfire burned. Around the flames, small beings crouched with glowing auras ringing their bodies. Other elves danced and sang while a musician played a flute.
“Humans,” someone screamed.
Chaos ensued, as dozens of pairs of eyes turned in their direction. Cries of panic resounded through the night.
A mist swirled into the meadow, tendrils curling and licking like flames. It filled every hollow and every corner, narrowing visibility. One by one, the elves faded into the gray curtain.
“Do not flee. I bear the symbol of Thor,” Zohar announced in a hearty voice. “We seek friendship and aid.”
Fine particles of moisture entered Nira’s nostrils as the mist tickled her face. It crawled up her legs, circling her body, reducing her vision. A multitude of voices murmured, seeming to surround them.
The mist tingled as though alive, probed at her temples, snaked around her head. She forced her mind to relax. Only the glen remained in her consciousness along with her physical form and Zohar’s presence.
As quickly as it had come, the mist receded.
She took a deep breath, not realizing how she’d frozen with rigidity. Her muscles relaxed. When the veil dissolved enough for clarity of sight to return, she gasped.
A ring of small people, their features delicate and angular, stood staring at them. Their wispy eyebrows rose up on a diagonal, accentuated by pointy ears and sharp noses. Their eyes, glimmering with curiosity, showed watchfulness as well.
Nira spread her hands. “We did not mean to disturb your peace, but we need your help.”
A broad-shouldered elf shuffled forward from the shadows, his hefty body encased in a fur-trimmed cape. A leafy crown adorned his mustard-blond head. His long hair, tied at his nape, was pierced by a single gold pin with a knob of quartz on top.
Nira’s gaze fixed on their objective. How would they ever win this from him? And why did she feel guilty for coveting it?
Maybe because your aims are selfish. You need the pin to satisfy Mimir so he’ll let you drink from the magic well.
Nonetheless, she felt bad for even thinking about stealing the elf’s possession. Maybe they could obtain it through some other means.
“I am Jadlok, liege of the lakes region.” The elf surveyed her and Zohar in turn. “We don’t usually let humans pass, but for you, we’ll make an exception. You wear the symbol of Thor, the great warrior god. Why do you seek us?”
Zohar straightened his spine. “We have been commissioned to obtain your golden hairpin. I should like to make you a wager.”
Nira glanced at him in surprise. What did he have in mind?
“Would you now?” Jadlok exchanged amused glances with the other small folk. “What could you possibly offer us?”
Zohar jerked his thumb at Nira. “She has a magic leash that can hold anyone it ties. Show him.”
As comprehension dawned on what he planned, Nira withdrew the cord. She hated to lose it, but they needed something valuable as a bargaining chip.
Jadlok’s opalescent eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?” He stepped closer, his cape sweeping the ground.
“It held the wolf beast, Fenrir. You’ve heard of him?” Nira spoke in a soft tone so as not to startle the elves.
“Who hasn’t? Don’t tell me you freed him?”
She winced. “It was a mistake. He tricked us by taking the form of a rangy little dog.”
“And you, puny humans that you are, could not see through his deception. Why am I not surprised?”
The elves muttered amongst themselves in a disapproving clatter.
“It wasn’t intentional. But now that you know the value of this item, we can discuss Zohar’s offer.” She and Zohar both knew the elves liked gambling, but how could he win against them? “Maybe we should just do a trade instead.”
“By the fires of Muspel, I don’t think so. A contest is much more fun.” With a look of glee, Jadlok clapped his hands. “What’s your wager, impulsive young fool?”
While Nira stuffed the golden ribbon back in her pocket, Zohar answered Jadlok. “I bet that I can out- dance you.”
Alarm skittered up her spine. “No, Zohar. Mimir warned us against dancing with them.”
“Do not worry. This charm protects me, remember?”
“It protects you how? Maybe it only guards against the Trollek spell.”
He grasped her arm, his warmth penetrating her skin. “I will be fine.”
The elves expanded their circle, while Jadlok signaled to Zohar. “Come into the center. Our womenfolk will compete against you.”
“Not you, Liege?”
Jadlok regarded him with a bemused glance. “I am two hundred and fifty-six years old. My dancing feet need a rest.”
Three shy-looking females glided into the middle, their slim bodies reassuring Nira. Surely Zohar had more stamina than this trio. They wore short skirts and bands of woven fabric around their chests, leaving their arms and legs bare along with their feet. The cooler night air didn’t seem to bother them.
Zohar divested himself of his heavy belt and handed his weapon surreptiously to Nira, who stuck it in her waistband. She hoped his boots were as comfortable for dancing as they were for trekking through the woods.
A bevy of musicians came forth and set up their instruments. They began to play a compelling tune that soon had her tapping her foot. Realizing she could easily get caught up in the beat, she made herself go st
ill, watching Zohar instead.
One of the women grabbed his hands. With fancy footwork, they went round and round while the other two females bounced from foot to foot and clapped. Then they joined the circle, keeping time to the rhythm.
Zohar introduced a series of steps he must have learned on his home world. His feet scuffed and tapped an intricate pattern. Nira’s blood heated while she watched his lithe form. Impressed by his gracefulness and the aura of power he projected, she resisted a strong urge to join him.
The beat increased, tempting her. Sweat beaded her brow. She swayed, taking little steps side to side. It was impossible to stay still with music so enticing. Her entire body yearned to jump and leap.
The three elves kept up the pace, their motions effortless, smiles on their petite faces. Their arms waved. Their bodies bent like willow branches in the wind. Their legs blurred. Mesmerized by their quick-footed movements, Nira didn’t realize she was keeping time to the rhythm until her breath came short.
“Dance, dance,” exhorted the crowd.
They pushed her into the center where she faced Zohar, whose red face told her the exertion took its toll. How many minutes had passed? Glancing at her watch, she was shocked to note the hour hand nearing two o’clock. When had they started? Around ten? Good God, four hours had gone by without them noticing?
“Zohar, this has to end.” Her lungs hurt. She wanted to stop but the music pounded in her ears, making her feet move and her body jump. The tune was just so catchy.
Zohar kept going as though he didn’t hear her, a glazed look in his eyes. The tempo increased, faster and faster.
Nira’s feet flew over the ground. She couldn’t last much longer. Her muscles ached in protest, the pain growing. Her heart raced. Her pulse drummed in her ears. She felt as though she’d explode out of her skin if she didn’t stop.
Across from her, Zohar wheezed in short, gasping breaths. His eyes took on a wild, frantic look. His face got blotchy.
They were nearing collapse, while the three temptresses pranced in tune, their elvin faces smug with triumph.
Nira clamped her lips together as a plan formed in her mind. If this is a game, it’s time to play my trump card.
Turning away, she skipped over to where Zohar had left his belt. Bending her knees, she scooped it up in one quick motion. The heavy belt weighted her arm, but she managed to sling it over her shoulder.
Warrior Prince Page 23
