She took Serra’s arm and propelled her forward as Serra exclaimed in surprise. “There’s an inn?”
“Naturally. We are the last stop for the merchants who travel to Hawksong Peak.” Serra looked behind her to be sure that her friends were following. Seeing that they were, Vaughn leading Shadowdancer, Serra turned back to the woman who was still talking. “Don’t mind the others. We’re just not used to seeing travelers up here at this time of the year. You know, no one goes into the mountains during the winter.” She stopped outside the door to the largest building in the town and looked up at Serra with curious brown eyes. “What were you and your friends doing out there, hmm?” Serra opened her mouth to answer but the woman didn’t give her a chance. “Never mind, dear, never mind. Now, in you go, yes sit by the nice warm fire and I’ll take care of the rest. Ruford! Ruford!” A young man appeared from around the building.
“Yes, ma’am, what is it?”
“Take these horses to the stable and make sure that they are well taken care of.” The man looked as though he was going to refuse, but then shut his mouth sullenly. “Go on now, shoo!” The woman flapped her hands at him, then hurried Serra and the others inside.
She hurried behind a desk and pulled door keys from the rack that hung there. “You’ll all be wanting your own rooms of course. Gods know we have the space. I won’t charge you extra either, just seems silly to stuff you all into two rooms, when we have the space. Gods know we have the space.” At this she held a hand over her mouth and let out a girlish giggle. “I said that already, didn’t I?”
No one had time to answer as she continued talking. She motioned for them to follow her up a flight of stairs. She talked all the while, and though Serra was grateful for the service the woman was providing for them, she couldn’t force her mind to focus on what she was saying.
Serra claimed the first room for herself. Without a glance behind her, she closed the door and collapsed on her bed, falling into a deep sleep.
Serra woke to the smell of freshly baked bread and her stomach rumbling. She dressed as quickly as her splint would allow, which was not very quick, and ran a comb through her hair. She could not move her arm enough to braid it, so she let it hang free, flowing to her hips.
She made her way downstairs to the large front room. There was a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, though the room itself was empty. A long table had been pushed up against the wall, a white cloth draped over it. Various platters of food sat on the cloth, a stack of empty plates at one side.
Serra took a plate and served herself a little of everything. There were eggs, three kinds of meat, pastries made with dried fruit, meat pies, fried potatoes, and the warm fresh baked bread that had woken her. To drink there was fruit juice and a hot dark bitter brew that made Serra purse her lips.
“It tastes a bit better with a bit of milk and sugar.” Reks said from behind her. She started and almost dropped her plate. He came toward her to take her burden. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He set her plate on the table and returned to give her a kiss. “Good morning.” He murmured, before motioning for her to take a seat. She did so, not taking her eyes from him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Reks asked as he brought her the milk pitcher and the sugar bowl.
Serra shrugged. “I just can’t believe you’re being so civil. You’ve been… grouchy.” She spooned some sugar into her mug and followed it with a splash of milk. After stirring the concoction, she took a tentative sip and was pleasantly surprised. “Everyone’s been a bit on edge lately.”
Reks joined her at the table. “I feel better after a night’s sleep in a real bed, lonely as it was.” His silver eyes found her own wide blue-green ones and Serra couldn’t help the blush that crept across her cheeks.
She was saved from answering when Vaughn and Rian joined them. Mistress Bina bustled into the room to make sure they had all they needed, then bustled out again. Moments later Sylvan burst into the room, disguised as a green eyed Salis girl, carrying with her the map of the country and the lists of children taken.
“I’ve found something,” she stated. The others pulled their plates out of the way as Sylvan thrust the map in the center of the table and spread it out. “I was thinking last night while I was trying to go to sleep about the story of the two sisters. I began to wonder if Valaine is still alive, isn’t possible that the elder sister- What was her name?- Valeria, is still alive as well? And if she is still alive, where would she be? There are only two places that have not been touched. Up in the mountains by Brencis and Hawksong Peak. I suspect this is because they are too cold at this time of year. Without blood heat the death muxin’s would simply freeze.” Sylvan thrust her finger at the map, pointing to a small village in the southeast. “This village is in the center of the only area that has remained untouched by the Muxins.”
“How large is the area?” Vaughn asked bending closer to the map.
“A circle that’s almost ten miles across.”
“It makes sense,” Rain said, placing an apple tart in front of Sylvan. “If Valaine couldn’t get into the village five hundred years ago, maybe she can’t get in now.” Sylvan smiled at Rian, making him turn the slightest shade of pink.
“And the protection spell was growing back then,” Reks added. “Who’s to say that it didn’t continue to grow to cover that large of a space?” Serra continued to listen as she surveyed her friends. This was how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to be planning together, to be a cohesive group, not bickering and arguing as they had been recently.
Rian moved to stand behind Sylvan’s chair, supposedly to get a better view of the map, but Serra saw the way his hand brushed against her hair then rested on her shoulder. Sylvan, whether conscious of it or not, leaned into his touch. “We need to travel south,” the prince said. “We have to discover if Valeria is still sleeping in that cave.”
“I agree,” Sylvan said, gathering up the map.
“That’s a first.” Reks leaned towards Serra to murmur.
Serra snorted, then coughed to cover it up. “While we’re down there, maybe we should see about visiting Mistress Wylda? She’s been a cardinal mage for almost as long as Master Gerard. She might be able to give us some guidance.” The others agreed.
By the time the mistress of the inn returned a second time, they had decided to leave in two days’ time and travel south to Port Luna. They would pass by Carpius and Mistress Vaneza’s Citadel on their way, but would not stop. When they reached Port Luna they would find a boat that would carry them to the Isle of Eyes and Mistress Wylda’s Citadel. From there they would travel to the tiny village that the death muxins could not touch.
Serra objected to the delay in their journey. But her companions steadfastly ignored her, stating that they needed the rest, and so did their horses. Thinking of Shadowdancer, the argument that lingered on the tip of Serra’s tongue died. The poor horse had been through more than her share of trouble and all because Serra had taken it into her head to ride after a group of strangers. The little mare deserved an actual break.
They finished their breakfast and set about gathering supplies they would need for the journey. The villagers weren’t as receptive to the idea of parting with their own precious supplies as Serra had hoped. The companions paid more than double for each item they bought. The only person who seemed willing to take pity on them was the kind-hearted Mistress Bina, who promised them enough food to get them to Carpius.
The rest of their time was spent in relaxation, or at least as much as one could relax knowing that soon they would be facing a foe more powerful than they had imagined. Serra began to have Sylvan teach her small spells. And tried to convince the others to let her train with weapons one handed, but they all refused.
Sylvan gently reminded her that her body needed time to heal. Though she had allowed Serra to remove the splint after declaring that she thought the bone had stitched together enough to withstand it. Serra didn’t tell her that she’d been se
nding as much of her power as she could manage to the bone, hoping to make it heal faster.
Serra knew that they were right, but she resented the inability to defend herself if the need for it rose.
The night before they were to leave Serra found it difficult to sleep, even with a belly full of beef stew and ale. Without thinking about it too much she got out of bed and dressed in her warmest clothes. She made her way through the quiet inn and outside. The night air was crisp, the sky clear revealing the stars and the moon in all their glory. She followed the road, passing by houses with candlelight shining from their windows.
Her feet led her to the temple of the Gods. She had not set foot inside a place of worship for a very long time, since long before Eva had been taken. She tried the door of the tiny church and found it unlocked. Surprise filled her as the door easily pushed open. The inhabitants of this town seemed like the types to lock the temple at night for fear of it being ransacked.
Inside a single candle lit the simple room. Serra cautiously approached the altar and knelt before it. She pushed her cloak off her shoulders and bent her head. Unsure of what to do next she cleared her throat and began to talk. “Praise be to the Gods and the Goddesses. Praise be to Vasilis the high God and his Lady Sunia the High Goddess. Praise be to Malvern, God of Humanity.” Her voice trailed off. Why had she brought Malvern into this? She had already decided that he could in no way be her father. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to a temple recently. I know that I have no right to ask you for anything, but that’s not going to keep me from asking.” Serra paused. She needed to be sure to word everything just right.
“Please, let us find Eva and Luc and Mhairie, whole and healthy. But not just them, all the children that have been taken. Please give us the strength to face our enemies and to defeat them. Please… Please give me the strength to do what I know must be done.” It was something that she had been thinking about a lot during the inactivity of the last few days. “I must find the strength to leave my friends and let the death muxins take me. I must face Valaine. I must show her the power I possess, that she does not, and make her jealous. I must use that jealousy against her…somehow.” Her voice was no more than a whisper. She had thought that saying it out loud might help a bit, but it appeared to only have made it worse. The trepidation at the thought of facing such a powerful mage alone turned her legs to water and set her heart to pounding.
“Why? Why me?” she hated that her voice sounded whiny even to her own ears. “Why couldn’t I just go on being Serra Ashworth, servant to the Grand Lord of Malvern’s Ward? Why do I have to be Serra the Shifter? Isn’t there someone out there better suited to this whole business? There must be.” Someone cleared their throat behind her. Serra spun around, on her feet in an instant. An old man stepped forward, carrying a candle in one hand. He was dressed in dark blue robes, the garb of a venerate, a priest of the Gods. Serra quickly bowed her head. “I’m sorry Venerate, the door was open.” She said as though that explained her presence in a temple in the middle of the night.
“Peace, child, one does not follow the normal schedule of worship when searching for answers. It is I who should be apologizing to you for interrupting you. I only came to replace the candle. Then I will leave you with the Gods.”
Serra shook her head, “I should be going.” As the Venerate passed her, he paused and took her hand. Warmth spread from his fingers to hers, filling her whole body. He caught her gaze with blue eyes that seemed a great deal younger than the rest of him. “Trust in the Gods, child, they know what they’re doing... most of the time. And in time you will receive the answers you are looking for.” Serra nodded her head and he released her.
She made her way to the door and murmured, “Good night, Venerate.”
“Good night, daughter,” he answered.
Serra stepped into the night and returned to the Inn. She was silent as she made her way through the building. The click of a door closing made her pause. She slid into the shadows as Rian left his room. She had expected him to make his way down the stairs and was about to reveal herself when he paused outside Sylvan’s door. He knocked so softly that Serra couldn’t hear it, but almost instantly Sylvan pulled open the door. She smiled when she saw him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. They disappeared behind the closed door.
Serra returned to her room, feeling lonely. She undressed down to her underthings and sat on the edge of the bed, twisting her fingers into the heavy quilt that covered it.
In an instant, she made a decision. If she was going to allow herself to be taken, to face Valaine and her army of death muxins on her own, she deserved to have at least a few moments of happiness beforehand.
She stood from the bed and pulled on the dressing gown that Mistress Bina had provided her, before slipping quietly out of her room and down the hall. She stopped outside the door she knew to be Reks' and glanced both ways before tapping on it gently, even quieter than Rian had knocked on Sylvan’s. She waited for a moment before raising her hand to knock again. No noise came from the other side of the door.
Serra sighed. She had been foolish to come. She turned to go and the door swung open and Reks blinked down at her. He’d taken the time to pull on trousers and a shirt over his shoulders, but it hung open revealing his muscled chest.
A slow smile spread over his face as he regarded her, leaning against the door jamb, his arms crossed over his chest. “Serra?”
It took her a moment to answer, distracted by the sight of Reks in his state of undress. He grinned waiting.
With shaking hands Serra reached up and untied the belt that held her robe closed, allowing it to fall open. Reks straightened the smile dropping from his face. “I was wondering,” said Serra, reaching under his shirt to brush her trembling fingers over his flat stomach. She felt his muscles tighten under her touch.
“You were wondering what?” He prompted, his voice strained.
She raised her eyes to his, and took a step closer. He smelled of soap and the outdoors. “I was wondering if you thought we might have enough time now.” Her fingers dropped to the ties at the front of his pants. His hand flew to capture her fingers before they could continue in their work.
Without a word, he tugged her into his room.
As soon as the door closed Reks had her pressed against it, his mouth on hers, his hips pinning her to the wood, while his hands roamed over her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He trailed his hands up to her shoulders, slipped the robe from her shoulders, leaving her in her underthings.
She pulled her mouth from his, breathing heavy, to pull his shirt off his shoulders. Glorying in the sight of him, the feel of his skin under her hands as she ran them down his chest. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again, but he stopped her.
Slowly, oh so painfully slowly, he reached out and slid his hands under her chemise, moving ever upwards, pulling the fabric with it. His fingers brushed across her stomach, her chest enjoying the sounds it elicited from her, before pulling the fabric over her head and dropping it on the floor.
Then he just stood there, drinking in the sight of her. It was all Serra could do to keep from raising her hands to cover up, before he breathed, “Beautiful,” and stepped toward her.
Serra twined her arms around his neck, pressing against him, enjoying the feel of his skin on hers. Reks ran his hands down her back. And then he was lifting her, wrapping her legs around his hips. He pulled his lips away from hers to trail kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. Her fingers tangled in his hair at the base of his neck.
Serra was unaware that they were moving until he laid her on the bed and followed her down, bracing himself on his arms over her. He grinned and Serra found herself smiling back.
“Are you sure?” He asked, smoothing the hair back from her face, dropping a kiss onto the corner of her mouth.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Relief flooded his features and he let out a
breath. Instinctively, Serra knew if she had said ‘no’ he would have stopped, no matter how much he wanted to continue, how much he wanted her, he would have moved away from her, helped her back into her clothes and sent her back to her room.
“Yes,” She repeated. “I’m sure.” She pulled him down to her lips and he came willingly.
When they’d finished, after they’d flung each other off a precipice to shatter into a million tiny stars, Serra wrapped her arms around him, stroking up and down, running her fingers over the thick scars of his back.
He pressed kisses to her shoulder, buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply. She could feel his smile against her skin, and felt her own curve in response. With a sigh, he rolled to the side and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest.
“Well?” He asked after her heartbeat had returned to its normal rhythm.
“Well, what?” She almost drifted off, lulled by the sound of his breathing and the warmth from his body.
He kissed her shoulder, nuzzled her neck. “Was it everything you imagined?”
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she turned in the circle of his arms to face him. “I don’t want to say.”
“Why not?” He kissed her nose.
“Because your ego is already big enough, I’m worried if I tell you the truth you’ll become truly insufferable.” She brought her hand up to idly trace the pattern of his Caste Mark, avoiding meeting his eyes.
“So, you’re saying it was good?”
She laughed. “Yes. It was better than good.” She kissed him. “Although I do seem to remember you saying something about taking hours. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but that seemed quite a bit shorter than hours.”
He chuckled and bent his head to give her a deep kiss. When he pulled back his eyes had darkened with passion. “Don’t worry, love, we’re just getting started.”
The next morning dawned grey and cloudy. Serra was loath to leave the warmth of Reks bed, but knew she had to. She watched as Reks moved around the room, stowing his things in his saddle bags.
The Caste Marked Page 27
