“You’ll see me again, Lily.”
With that he shut the door behind him, shutting her into the dimness, the slam of the bolt like a stake in her heart.
“Come, Lily. We will tend to your injuries.”
“Injuries?” Lily hated to tell Ayla nothing could be done for her hair and skin color. But who knew, maybe the woman could change the color.
Ayla placed a gentle hand on Lily’s arm, the touch feather-light. “Surely you are hurt. Watchers are not known for their gentle care of claims.”
“What?” Had she missed something? “I’m sorry, what do you mean?”
Ayla sighed, stroking Lily’s arm slightly with her fingers, the effect soothing. “Didn’t Enar hurt you when he claimed you?”
“What?” Great. Enar left her with a crazy woman and departed to places unknown. What in the name of the Goddess was Ayla talking about?
The older woman stopped walking and crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised. Lily felt like a bug caught in a net. Like she had when the priests at home stared at her, knowing she must have done something wrong but not knowing what that something was.
“Enar never hurt me. He saved me from death several times. Why would you think he’d ever hurt me?” She mirrored Ayla’s position, arms crossed, one foot turned outward.
The woman’s eyes rounded, surprise and pleasure filling them. “He didn’t?”
“Why would he?”
“Ah, yes. That is the question we all ask. Why do the Watchers treat us so badly?”
“What do you mean?” Lily felt her left eyebrow rise.
Ayla’s head cocked to the side as she sucked in her lip. “Hmm, maybe something I said got through his thick skull after all. The Goddess only knows he spent enough time with me. If he truly has not hurt you, then he is the only one. Watchers derive pleasure from watching those weaker than themselves writhe in pain.” Ayla’s eyes grew distant, her jaw tensing.
The soothing effect given when Ayla’s fingers had rested on her arm disappeared like a puff of smoke. Lily stared at the older woman’s arm, remembered its stiffness and a hollowness formed in her stomach. “Is that what happened to your arm?”
Sharp eyes focused on Lily. “And my nose.” Ayla touched the bridge of her nose. “He liked to make me scream when he took me. At the time, none of the other women were healers and the arm didn’t set right. I tried to set it, but I couldn’t get it to slide into place. It healed wrong.”
Lily shivered, the hollowness in her stomach growing into nausea. She swallowed a couple of times, trying to banish the image of what the poor woman went through. “Why didn’t you call for a Draconi priestess?”
“Are you crazy?” She spat and Lily jumped. “The Draconi don’t care about us. They turn a blind eye to our suffering. As long as their precious Watchers guard them, they don’t care what the men do on their own time. And don’t even get me started on why powerful sorcerers need a bunch of violent warmongering men to guard them. Why—”
“Maybe they don’t know what goes on here.” Ayla had asked to not get her started on a rant and Lily was only too happy to oblige. Lily didn’t know the Draconi well, but she couldn’t imagine the priestesses allowing such atrocities to happen to other women.
“Oh, they know. How could they not? They see everything, don’t you know? They don’t care.” She threw her hand out in a slicing motion.
“I’m not so sure about that—”
“Well, that’s because you just arrived. Live awhile here and you’ll see what goes on. Then you’ll know how little sorcerers care about those who aren’t Draconi. As a matter of fact, they’d kill me on sight, just because I have some magical abilities. They eradicate those who have magic.”
“I know for a fact that’s not true. They brought back Jamie and my friend Keara. Both of them are Halflings.”
“How do you know they aren’t killing your friends now? You don’t.” Ayla shook her head, rolling over Lily’s protests. “I’m telling you, they don’t like other magical beings.”
“What makes you say that?” This she had to hear as she knew the Draconi weren’t a thing like Ayla described. She knew quite well nothing bad was happening to Keara and Jamie. Keara was happily mated and would soon adopt Jamie as her own.
Where was help when she needed it? Someone needed to rescue her from this insanity.
Ayla’s eyes grew distant, haunted. “Because they’d come to my village when I was a child and take those who possessed magical abilities. My parents forbid me from practicing my magic in public when they realized what I could do.” Her voice lowered, shame tinting the words. “I’m the reason why the Watchers raided my village. They were supposed to bring me back to the Draconi, but The Bastard claimed me instead.” Her gaze focused on Lily’s feet. “He told the Draconi I died in the raid so they wouldn’t look for me.”
“And you believed him?”
“I’m still here aren’t I?” Ayla’s head jerked up, eyes blazing, her voice the hiss of snakes. “If they wanted me they would have come and found me. Further evidence they just don’t care. Anyway, why are we discussing Draconi? You are a Watcher’s claim now and need to meet the other women and hear what it’s like to live in this grand place.”
With that, she turned on her heel and started down the hallway, leaving Lily blinking in shock. She had not expected that conversation. Ayla was a fountain of information if Lily could get past the waters of bitterness.
Drawing in a breath, hoping to calm her racing heart, Lily followed Ayla down a short hallway, into a huge open area. Sunlight streamed through a glass window in the ceiling, reflecting off the water flowing from a fountain set in the middle of the courtyard. Palm trees waved from around the perimeter, their fronds offering shade from the light pouring through the huge skylight. Women in identical white dresses sat or lay on colorful pillows strewn about the tan stones of the courtyard.
They all turned to her, a rainbow of skin and hair colors. Many were in various states of pregnancy. Most had colorful bruises on their faces. Lily swallowed the bile rising in her throat.
“Ladies, I’d like you to meet Lily. She’s a new claim. Lily, these are the Watchers’ claims.” Ayla gestured to the women.
All eyes swiveled to her, a mixture of sympathy, curiosity and disinterest, but no outright hate. Maybe they would accept her.
Ayla touched her arm. “Come. I’ll show you where things are and then bring you back to this room. Most of the women stay in this area throughout the day and you can meet them later.” She started walking down a long hallway, white walls sparkling in the light of a torch stationed midway down the length. Their footsteps echoed as they drew farther away from the fountain room, a slow beat of doom.
So this was how one became claustrophobic.
Breathing a sigh of relief when they reached the end of the hall, Lily looked around what was obviously a kitchen. Aromas of herbs and meat assaulted her nose and her stomach growled. Yum. By the smell of things dinner would taste wonderful.
As they stepped into the kitchen, a wave of heat smacked Lily in the face like an invisible brick wall. She looked up at the ceiling, at the fans circling a slow dance, at the small barred windows. How the cooks managed to work in this heat without fainting was beyond her understanding. Someone should insist on larger windows.
Oh, but then the women would all escape. Bad idea.
Several white-clad women chopped vegetables, their hair pulled back into scarves, faces red from exertion and heat. Their eyes flicked toward Lily and Ayla and then focused back on their chopping boards, the slap of their knives against the wood a primal beat. A huge brick fireplace—the obvious source of the heat—took up half the wall facing the door. Large enough for a person to stand in, it contained a fire and two iron pots hung over the flames. A brown-haired woman, her back toward them, added a dash of some herb to the liquid, stirring with a long-handled spoon.
“Greetings, Marshene. I have a new claim here that I’m showing around.�
�� Ayla walked toward the cook.
Not bothering to turn around, the woman took a sip from the spoon, nodding her head. Spoon in hand, she turned to face Ayla.
Her face broke into a smile until she saw Lily.
“What have you done bringing a cursed one into my kitchen?” She screamed, making the sign against evil to Lily. “Get her away before she poisons the food!”
As one, the workers stopped chopping, turning to stare at the new arrivals. The breath caught in Lily’s throat, surprise and shame warring for dominance. Shame won out and she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. Who would have thought Marshene—a name Lily had almost, but not quite, forgotten—would be here? The woman had disappeared when Lily was a child, thought to be a victim of a wild animal attack.
Not much older than Lily, Marshene had been her main enemy, taunting her, calling the priests when Lily went into public, wishing her dead. Lily felt like throwing a party the day Marshene disappeared. Which didn’t reflect well on her, she knew, but it was still one of her favorite memories. And now that snide bitch was back in her life.
The day just kept getting worse.
Now that Ayla knew Lily was cursed, what would she do? Ayla couldn’t kick Lily out, but would she banish her to her room, provided she was even given a room? And what was wrong with Enar for dropping her off in this place? They should have stayed with the Draconi.
Ayla paused, gaping at Marshene. “What is wrong with you, woman? She is a claim. Same as you, same as me, same—”
“She is not the same as me!” Marshene shook the spoon at Lily, her face red, her hands shaking. “She is cursed, I’m telling you. Cursed!”
“You superstitious fool! What is it about her that makes her cursed? You should be cursed for your superstitions, for not welcoming her. We are a band of sisters. Your superstitions are making us weak when we need to be strong.”
Lily saw smoke coming from Ayla’s hands. Marshene obviously saw it too as her eyes grew wide and she took a step back. Her glance traveled from Ayla to Lily and back again and she swallowed.
“Apologize now,” Ayla hissed.
Lily ventured a glance upward to Ayla’s face. Fury laced the older woman’s features, causing the illusion of a wave of smoke passing over her face. Or maybe it wasn’t an illusion, fire consumed her hands.
Lily gasped. How did Ayla catch her hands on fire when she stood across the room from any source of flame? Water, where was water? The only liquid Lily saw was in the pot boiling over the fire. That wouldn’t do. A rag caught her eye. Maybe she could beat the flames out. Why wasn’t anyone else helping?
Marshene dropped to the ground, forehead pressed against the stone. Lily stopped mid-reach. Was the woman addled?
“Forgive me, Ayla. I knew her as a child. She was one the priests warned against.”
Well, son of a goat. There went any chance of Ayla liking her.
“That is how I know she is cursed, but if you want me to welcome her I will. Please forgive me.”
Lily watched the fire fade from Ayla’s hands. Pink, unburned flesh covered her hands. Normal flesh. It wasn’t polite to stare, but Lily couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop her eyes from focusing on Ayla’s unburned, previously flaming, hands. How could her hands not be burned?
“Then welcome her properly,” Ayla said, her voice forced through her clenched jaw.
Marshene raised her head, looking at Lily, her eyes glaring hatred. Her voice, though, floated through the air smooth as still water. “Welcome, Lily. Please forgive me my outburst.”
Lily straightened her shoulders, pushing her hood off her head. Marshene’s lip curled in a snarl at Lily’s movements. Gulping, Lily nodded.
“Forgiven. Nice to see you again, Marshene. We thought you’d been killed by a wild animal.” She deserved a reward for keeping the sarcasm almost out of her voice.
Marshene turned her gaze, now contrite, back to Ayla and rose slowly. “I must finish cooking if dinner is to be served on time.”
Ayla waved her hand, dismissing Marshene.
“Come, Lily. Let me show you the rest of the building.” Turning on her heel as if nothing happened, she walked out of the kitchen, the wide eyes of the workers following her every step.
Lily glanced at Marshene—who made the sign against evil and snarled—before hurrying after Ayla. Hopefully Marshene wouldn’t poison her dinner. Or follow her out and stab her in the back with a knife. Lily glanced over her shoulder. Whew. Marshene once again stood by the fire, her spoon slapping circles around the pot, her concentration on the boiling water, not Lily.
Maybe Marshene would stay in the kitchen.
Lily jogged to catch up to Ayla, the older woman’s long legs carrying her quickly away from the overheated room. What would Ayla do to her now? What had she done to make Enar leave her in this place? Would he ever come back and take her away from here or was Marshene to be an everyday staple in her life?
Goddess’s toes, I hope not.
And now she had to deal with Ayla knowing what she was.
Lily swallowed, the words thick from a bad case of dry mouth. “Do you want me to stay hidden so as not to offend?”
“What in the name of the Goddess are you talking about, child?” Ayla stopped mid-stride and stared at Lily.
“I—”
One hand waved in the air. “Don’t let the ramblings of that superstitious fool bother you. I don’t know what got into her. She’s not normally like that.”
“I grew up with her.” Lily lowered her eyes. “According to my town’s priests, I’m offensive to the gods.”
Ayla snorted. “What a load of rubbish. Everyone is made in the Goddess’s image, we are all Her children. Some people are just superstitious fools. Don’t let Marshene bother you. If you have any trouble with her, come to me, you hear?”
Lily blinked at her. Did she hear Ayla right? Ayla didn’t mind her cursed state? Just like the priestesses at the Temple. Her shoulders relaxed.
“Don’t look so surprised. Everyone in this house is equal, no matter where or from what station in life we came from. Once here, equal. Understand?” The wave of heat shimmered around the older woman. Smoke curled from her hands.
“Your hands.” Lily took a step back and pointed to the flames now licking Ayla’s fingertips.
Glancing down, Ayla shook her hands and took a deep breath. The smoke and fire disappeared. Lily shook her head. Was she seeing things?
“Haven’t you seen a firestarter before?” Ayla’s head tilted as she peered at Lily as a snake would a bird. “No, I guess you haven’t. Marshene hadn’t seen one either and if you’re from the same village...well, that’s what I am. A firestarter.”
“So you can start fires? With your hands?” Good job stating the obvious, Lily.
“Yes. Where I come from firestarters are highly prized and must remain hidden from the Draconi because they will capture and kill those of us with magic.”
Again, Ayla’s version of the Draconi didn’t match what Lily knew of them. “Are you sure they killed them?”
“The tales state the firestarters disappeared and never returned. What else would’ve happened to them? When my parents realized what I was, they forbid me from showing my powers in the open, but unfortunately I had trouble controlling my powers when I got angry and word got back to the Draconi who sent the Watchers and you know the rest of the story.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Did anyone else in your family have the firestarting ability?” A ghost of a thought brushed her mind before vanishing. She tried to grab it, to remember, but it slipped away.
“My grandmother had much more of an ability than I do. Smoke would come out her ears and sometimes things would fly around. I don’t remember much as she died when I was young. My mother’s hands just smoked, no fire. I suspect Enar has some ability, but he’s never said and I’m not going to ask.”
“I don’t think he can start fires. Or at least I’v
e never seen his hands catch on fire. He might be able to do other things. I’ll ask him.”
“Are you daft? You don’t ask a Watcher anything. I like you and don’t want to see you hurt.”
Lily couldn’t stop the eye roll. “Enar would never hurt me.” Unless dropping her off at the Claims’ House counted as hurting. Next time he stopped by he was getting an earful.
Ayla paused, brows gathering. “You’ve said that before.”
“And I’ll say it again. With the exception of dropping me off here, he has been nothing but kind to me. He took me out of a horrible situation, saved me from drowning, and I...I...” she took a deep breath, refusing to say the words. “He’s a good man.”
Eyes blinking rapidly, Ayla stared at Lily. If the woman’s jaw widened any further Lily would be able to see all the way to her toes.
Lily smelled the scent of oil burning in the torch, heard the flicker of flame mixed with several moments of the inhale and exhale of breath rustling through an open mouth.
She defended Enar to Ayla, but a part of her wanted to rail against him. How dare he drop her off at this place? And with her archenemy inside. Most definitely, the next time he showed his face around here, she’d let him have it. She might not possess the ability to shoot fire out her hands, but she remained a force to be reckoned with all the same.
Chapter 22
Enar opened the door to his barrack room and took a deep breath, expecting to smell the musty scent of mildew. Instead, the room smelled fresh, like someone had lived here recently. The cover on the bed looked clean, not the dusty mess he expected to see. Striding to the window, he pushed open the shutters, allowing light to flood the small room.
A bed, chair and night-table stood against one wall. The opposite wall held a small fireplace. With fresh ashes. Enar knelt and ran his finger through the remains of wood. Then he walked to the door and peered out, looking at the number tacked onto the wood paneling.
Yes, he was in the right place. So why did it look lived in instead of abandoned?
He kicked shut the door and fell into the chair. Legs stretched out in front, arms resting behind his head, he tilted the chair back so it balanced on two legs.
Warrior Lover (Draconia Tales) Page 21
