Daughter of the Diamond: Book IV of the Elementals Series

by Marisol Logan

  “Browan,” she sad softly and calmly, in a sweet and pleading tone, “I wonder if I might take the opportunity to spend a week at home, before I become too large and cumbersome for travel.”

  His expression changed from the hard, stern one that accompanied the discussion of Andon and back to the soft, affectionate look he had reserved for her the past two weeks.

  “Am I not providing you your every desire, my dear?” he asked, cocking his head, kneeling at the side of the bed.

  “You are,” Veria replied, “and more. I just...I am quite homesick and would love to see Irea. Tell her she has a little brother or sister coming. And, I haven't even told my mother! She is likely to have a fit if I go much longer without breaking the news.”

  Browan considered the request in silence and then nodded slowly. “Of course, dear, of course,” he said. “When would you like to go? First thing in the morning?” She nodded affirmatively. “I will have my best driver ready, and he will take you as soon as the roads dry a bit from the downpour.”

  “Thank you, Browan,” Veria smiled warmly at him, though rage bubbled up from her stomach and into her chest as she thought of how indifferent he had been about Andon's life. “I promise I will eat well and get plenty of rest,” she added.

  “I am sure you will,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Speaking of eating well, you can start right now with this fabulous dinner in front of you, hm?”

  Veria nodded and took in a mouthful of the vegetables, struggling to make herself swallow them without throwing them back up. Her throat had tied itself into a knot of emotion, and her stomach had not stopped churning with fear and anger since she had heard of Andon's fate.

  And, she knew it wouldn't stop until she saved him.

  She didn't tell Strelzar her plan, as she knew he would just try to stop her. And she didn't even go into her house when the coach dropped her there the next morning. She waited until the King's driver was gone, then found the Longberme driver and told him to take her straight to the docks in Solderess, as quickly as possible.

  It took the entirety of the daylight hours to reach Solderess, but at the docks, she was immediately able to get onto a boat departing for Barril before midnight. The three days on the boat passed in a blur of nausea and anxiety, of impatience and worry, and sickness and sleep, which was about all she could do on the boat. Her shifting and increasing weight made it even harder than usual for her to steady herself against the rocking and swaying of the ship on the ocean waves. She chose to primarily lay in her cot unless she needed to relieve herself, or managed to work up enough of an appetite to have a few bites of fish or toast.

  She kept herself wrapped in a heavy brown coat, her hood up and her hair down, though she didn't think she would be recognized in these parts. But if she were recognized on a boat to Esperan, and Andon rescued soon after, Browan would be furious that she went behind his back, not to mention he would be suspicious of what had happened between her and Andon during the Peace Council five months prior, and, naturally, the parentage of the baby he had become so immediately invested in.

  Once docked in Barril, Veria found a small inn for a meal and paid for one night's stay in a room, though she only slept until about midnight. When she was sure the inn was quiet, except for the sound of the innkeeper cleaning up, she came back out into the main room, paying him a handsome fee for the use of his horse and the guarantee of his silence.

  The horse was black as the night and a steady rider, which her back was thankful for. She resisted the urge to spur the steed to full gallop, wanting to find Andon sooner, but knowing she would have to keep a slow and steady pace because of the tiny life inside her.

  At the edge of Barril, which featured a tall, turquoise perimeter wall that matched the buildings of the seaside city, a gate guard stopped her.

  “Leaving the city at this time of night?” His accent was thick, thicker than Andon's, and his voice featured a heavy dose of concern.

  “Yes,” Veria said. And quickly remembering the only other city she remembered from Esperan geography lessons: “Jura.”

  “Ah, then you should have easy passage tonight,” he sad with a smile, beginning to lift the gate. “No rain in the jungle today, so no mud. If you had said Jorriza, I would have been concerned. The Separatists have been harassing the travelers on the road into our beautiful sister city. Once we drive them out, I suggest you visit it, though.”

  “I certainly will do that,” Veria said with a polite smile as the iron gate was completely raised to allow her to pass.

  “Farewell, fair lady! Safe travels!” the guard called after her in his thick Esperan accent.

  As soon as the gate was far enough behind her, she turned the horse straight south, off the road to Jura, toward Jorriza. Esperan was a peninsula, surrounded on all but its eastern border by the ocean, and not very wide from north to south. In fact, if she had to estimate from the maps she had seen, it would only take her about four hours, even at her slow pace, to reach the southern coast, where Jorriza, and apparently the Separatists, were located. She could be there before dawn...which would certainly be helpful to have the dark of night on her side.

  Once there, she had no idea what her plan was. She stared up at the towering, frondy, emerald green palma trees. At least there was wood available, unlike that forsakenly barren Govaland.

  Govaland...just thinking about the kingdom made her shiver and turned her entire body to ice. Ellory's face flashed in her mind, and she closed her eyes against it, which only brought his pleading, crazed eyes into sharper focus. Her heart pounded as she remembered the sounds of his death, and the golden statue they had left there, in the tower...

  What would Andon say if he ever found out? How could she keep from telling him...not only about his Master but about the Twin Dragons? Would he ever forgive her?

  Strelzar had been right, in the tower—she couldn't handle the guilt. She couldn't handle carrying the secret. She would have to tell Andon, because she knew she couldn't hold it from him forever.

  Veria never crossed another person on the road to Jorriza. The rumors of harassment by the Separatists must have been a serious deterrent, which didn't surprise Veria. On the whole, the Esperan people seemed peaceful and quite adverse to conflict of any kind. By the time she saw the terracotta perimeter wall of the city of Jorriza on the horizon, she had dozed off on her steady horse more than once.

  Keeping a decent distance from the wall, and the actual city itself, she headed toward the east, toward the road that led to the eastern border of Esperan, which it shared with Tal'lea. She kept her eyes on the beach to her south, and occasionally checked the thick jungle to her north, finally catching a glimpse of campfires in its wooded depths after about half an hour on the road.

  She rode a bit further ahead and dismounted, tethering the innkeeper's horse to a palma tree and fishing a biscuit from her pocket to feed him and keep him calm, though she realized he was a rather calm horse to start and probably didn't need sweets to aid him. So, the Esperan serenity didn't just pertain to its human residents, Veria thought with a brief moment of amusement before she turned back toward the encampment in the jungle.

  Before taking any action, she would have to find Andon, which would likely be the hardest part of the rescue. As she neared, she saw it was a rather small encampment. About a quarter of the size of the unit that she and Strelzar had destroyed in their first mission as the Twin Dragons. So, fifty men at most, she approximated as she circled the camp from a distance, counting the fire pits and tents, looking for any signs that one might be holding a prisoner.

  She felt a rustle in the dirt to her left and looked over just in time to see a scout running a perimeter check. He wore a light, loose chain-mail vest over his clothes, and she latched onto the energy of the metal and pulled at it so it would squeeze around his chest. He sputtered and gasped and tried to call out but only managed a few choked coughs before he passed out. As soon as he was unconscious she let go and let him flop to t
he ground with a gentle thud.

  She walked to the scout's body, crumpled in the dirt, and after checking he was still alive, which he was, turned her attention back to the camp. She had a better vantage point, having bought herself the ability to get a bit closer now that the scout on the south perimeter was out of the way. Then she saw it—the nearest tent to her on her left had two guards outside of it, and the others did not.

  That was either a leader, or a prisoner...and she was hoping for the latter. She decided she would try her hand at sneaking in the back of the tent. Once she had eyes on Andon, she could handle everyone else. Trying to take them out beforehand would likely alert too many people to her presence and increase the chance that she would have to resort to measures that might endanger Andon.

  As slowly, cautiously, and quietly as she could managed, she sneaked toward the back of the guarded tent. It was easy in the palma jungle, as the ground was primarily covered in soft, lush, emerald grass and the rich, brown dirt that made Esperan such a bounty for agriculture. It was like sneaking down a hallway on a plush carpet. Easy, even for an occasionally clod-footed woman halfway through a pregnancy.

  Lifting the linen of the back of the tent, that was just loose enough for her to give herself some wiggle room, she accomplished her first feat. Once securely inside the tent, she looked up to see Andon, sitting in its middle with his hands tied behind his back, staring at her with the most shocked look she had ever seen on his face.

  He shook his head wildly after several moments of shocked silence, in which Veria had plenty of time to survey the hollow exhaustion that had conquered his face since she last saw him. “Go!” he mouthed silently. “Get out!”

  She shook her head at him and mouthed “No”.

  He dropped his head in despair as she made her way to him and untied the knot that held his hands behind his back. As his arms released, his entire body shuddered and went limp, and he rubbed his right shoulder tenderly. Veria motioned to the back of the tent and she lifted the linen for him and he crawled under. He grabbed the linen from the other side and held it for her to come through.

  And just as easily as she had sneaked into the camp, they sneaked away, Andon slightly limping but still making no noise on the plush ground. Once a fair distance from the camp, they could whisper.

  “What are you doing here?” he rasped.

  “Saving you, obviously,” Veria answered with a smile, feeling the weight of the fear and anxiety she had carried lifted from her body.

  “Why you, is what I meant,” Andon whispered.

  “Technically, I'm not here,” Veria replied. “You can't tell anyone I did this.”

  “Then how am I going to explain my escape?”

  “You survived an accident at the camp and managed to get away in the chaos.”

  “What accident?” he cocked his head.

  Veria tensed her spine as she prepared to do what needed to be done, though she had to admit, it was much easier for her to destroy the camp of the Separatists who had kidnapped Andon. She locked onto the Fire in her bracelet, then found the energy in the flames of the fire pits, moving them slowly, slowly but surely to the trees.

  “Veria, what are you doing?” Andon asked as he watched the shifting of the fire in horror. “You can't do this!” he rasped. “Palma trees are extremely flammable—all these men will die!”

  “Andon, there’s a horse to the east, a two minute walk,” Veria whispered, ignoring him. “Go get him and come back here.”

  “I can't let you do this,” he snapped.

  “Yes, you can,” Veria said. “And it's already done.”

  They watched as a small ball of flame she controlled touched the dry, husk covered spires that were the palma trunks, turning almost immediately into a tower of flame. The camp erupted in chaos, yelling, screaming, running, and Veria lit a second tree on fire. Then a third, and the flames started creeping toward the tents, lighting them like tinder boxes, filling the night air with screams.

  Andon shuddered and shook his head, walking away toward the innkeeper's horse as the sounds of men being burned alive continued to echo through the jungle. A few may have escaped, but Veria didn't care. That just made it look more like an accident, which was what she needed.

  Andon pulled up on the black horse and helped Veria up into the saddle behind him.

  “Ride to Jorriza,” Veria said.

  “Good, and we are staying the day,” Andon said.

  “I can't,” Veria argued, knowing she needed to get back to Londess within the week.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do Veria,” Andon said sternly, and Veria's stomach flipped as the baby chose that very moment, with her abdomen pressed against his back, to perform its first feat of acrobatics inside her. Andon tensed and jerked his head back toward her before spurring the horse forward. “A lot.”

  -VI-

  They reached Jorriza just as the sun peeked above the horizon, casting the sky into a hazy, ashy shade of amethyst. Andon seemed to know his way around the city, heading directly for an inn near the docks. The innkeeper recognized him immediately, welcoming him as 'Ambassador Villicrey', and allowing the two of them to claim one his vacant rooms, even though it was already dawn. Andon reached into his pocket for money, and realized with a look of shame that he had none, so Veria offered the man a gold.

  “This is too much,” he argued and tried to hand it back.

  “It's the lowest coin I have,” Veria said.

  “Then I shall bring you both a heaping breakfast when it's ready,” he smiled warmly, still looking embarrassed to be taking so much money as he gave them the key to their room and turned back to the kitchen.

  They made their way up the stairs and into the room, which was covered in dark red tapestries and rugs. As Andon flopped in exhaustion onto the large bed, Veria threw her coat on a chair and walked to the window and looked out on the burnt orange buildings, all matching, like Barril's turquoise ones. The coast line, unlike the beaches of Barril, was rocky and rough, with stone the same color as the buildings.

  With a reluctant sigh, and barely lifting his head off the bed, Andon started the conversation. “You are with child?”

  Veria nodded slowly, turning to face him, noticing the quick and subtle glint of hope in his eye when she did.

  “And it's...”

  “I don't know,” Veria said softly. “Based on Turqa's estimations...it could be either.”

  “Veria...” he sighed, pulling himself up from the bed and walking to her at the window. He placed his hands on her waist and breathed in the scent of her hair, which she was certain in that moment smelled of dirt and salty sea air. “You should have stayed home. You should be resting, and taking care of yourself.”

  “I couldn’t let you die, Andon!” she snapped. “And I am not some helpless invalid just because I'm carrying a child. Your forget my skill level and training, and you also forget that I've done this before.”

  “What, carried a child? Or slaughtered an entire camp of people?” Andon spat, his face suddenly changing as he dropped his hands from her body.

  “I did what I had to do,” Veria said. “They were militants.”

  “Still people,” Andon said.

  “This world is on the verge of war because of these Separatists, Andon! You know that better than most! And you don't even want their blood shed? People will die, that's inevitable.”

  “Eventual death is inevitable, yes, but we will never end the constant cycle of war and aggression if we see violence and death as the only answer.”

  “I didn't realize we were trying to do that,” Veria said.

  “I have been for some time now,” Andon replied.

  “Well, that's good for you, but in this case, it was the price I was willing to pay to save you,” Veria explained. “If it hadn't looked like an accident, or a random attack, then Browan would know it was me.”

  “And if you came to rescue me...”

  “He'd make a lot of very correct
assumptions about what happened in Barril five months ago.”

  Andon sighed and dropped his head. “He thinks it's his. Of course he does, why wouldn't he?”

  “Andon...it could be,” Veria said through a constricted throat.

  “What are you going to do if it's not?” he asked, stepping back into her, placing his hands on her waist again, starting the simmer of desire in her middle. As he ran his palms along her sides, the fire crept it into her chest, and when his hands found the soft swell at the front of her stomach, her body erupted in flames.

  “Then...he will probably exile me from the kingdom,” Veria said softly. “Or something similarly punitive.”

  “Come here, to Esperan” Andon whispered, lowering his lips toward hers, “and we will raise the child together.”

  He pressed his lips into hers, gently but passionately, pulling her a bit closer to his body, but carefully, obviously trying not to squeeze her growing bump. As her desire for him grew, and she wanted nothing more than to make love to him and not talk with anything but their bodies for hours, she remembered she had news to tell him. She pulled her lips away.

  “Children,” she corrected.

  A twinkle tinged his brown eyes and a smirk pulled the corner of his stony lips. “You're jumping ahead a bit, aren't you dear?”

  “No, Andon...” Veria replied. “If this child is yours, then we will have children, because we already have a child together.”

  “What are you saying?” he cocked his head and furrowed his brow.

  “Irea is yours, Andon,” she said softly. In his speechlessness, she continued. “My mother...she placed a deception, at her birth, so Turqa would think she was Rames' child, but Strelzar visited her on her birthday, and...he sensed it.”

  “Wait...how long have you known about this?” Andon asked.