“We’ll be back in plenty of time. Besides, Winter’s Frost and Summer Flame are already here.”
On the heels of his words, a flame bright stallion ducked under the low ridge of stone at the cave’s entrance. The stallion froze when his eyes locked on the two human shapes burrowed under the blankets.
Sorsha’s cheeks burned at the other stallion’s stunned body language. His ears flicked forward and he lowered his head, nostrils flared.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Sorsha blushed at the way she’d rushed the words together.
“I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”
“Nearly so,” Shadowdancer confirmed.
Sorsha punched him in the arm. “No it’s not. We were attacked by Lord Master Trensler. Shadowdancer leapt into the river to escape. He saved me.”
“And for his bravery you rewarded him with a little bed sport?”
“No, of course not.”
“Hmmm. Remind me to save you sometime.”
“Apologize to Sorsha!” Shadowdancer lunged up so quickly, Sorsha was thrown back against the floor. By the time she was looking at Shadowdancer again, he was engulfed in fiery light. When it faded, Shadowdancer was once again in his natural form. The stallion bellowed a challenge as he came down on four hooves. Summer Flame nickered in humor and leapt back, out of the cave. His laughter reached Sorsha’s mind.
Shadowdancer pursued his target while Sorsha looked on in confusion. After a moment she heard Winter’s Frost scold both males. Sorsha wanted to thank the mare for intervening.
Trensler was out in the forest somewhere and they didn’t know where. Nor did they know when he’d strike next. She didn’t even know what he wanted. Whatever it was couldn’t be good.
Tucking the blanket around herself like a cloak, Sorsha hastily pulled on her now dry leathers. They were stiff and smelled odd, but she didn’t care. She shoved her feet in her still damp boots. The lining was almost wet, but chaffing was the least of her worries.
“Shadowdancer.” She called as she ran. “Shadowdancer, talk to me.”
Running from the cave, she emerged to find her Santhyrian and Summer Flame facing each other. Her Santhyrian? She paused when she realized what she’d just thought. But yes, it still felt right. Shadowdancer glowered at the flame bright stud with a baneful look.
Heads high, tails arched, the two stood frozen, each awaiting the other’s slightest move to begin the battle.
“Don’t you dare,” Sorsha yelled as she walked closer, “either of you.”
With a snort and a shake of his head, Shadowdancer relaxed and arched his neck in her direction. She tossed an arm across his back as she pressed her face against him. “Easy. Don’t fight. There’s no time. We have to worry about Trensler and figure out where he’ll attack next.”
“No, we won’t. We know where he will be.”
Sorsha frowned. Not understanding.
“He’ll be where the strongest Larnkins reside. For now, that would be wherever your sister and her bondmate are. Sorntar was host to the strongest Larnkin I’d ever sensed, until I met your sister. Ashayna is equal or greater in power than the Crown Prince.”
“You think Trensler is going after them next.”
“I don’t know who or what Trensler serves, but if he’s harvesting magic for his master, it’s only a matter of time before he goes after the feast Ashayna and Sorntar represent. And if my Larnkin couldn’t stop Trensler from feeding on me, I doubt Sorntar or Ashayna’s Larnkins will fare any better.”
“Then what can we do?”
“Meet up with your sister in River’s Divide, and then contact Sorntar’s parents. We’ll do as Queen and Council commands.”
Chapter Seven
Sorsha paced back and forth in front of her sister’s fireplace.
“Would you stop?” Lamarra gestured to the floor at Sorsha’s feet. “Abusing the poor floor boards won’t help Ashayna.”
Biting back a retort so hard her jaw creaked, Sorsha spun to face Lamarra where she leaned against the corner bedpost, her hands folded demurely in front of her.
If she didn’t know Lamarra so well, Sorsha would have envied her sister’s calm demeanor. But the way Lamarra cast her gaze back to the door time and again told Sorsha her sister was just as worried.
Shadowdancer and the other Santhyrians had gotten back to River’s Divide to find Lamarra waiting at the gate for them. Her news was worrisome. Lord-Master Trensler was already within River’s Divide. Worse, he was in a private meeting with General Stonemantle, Ashayna, Sorntar, and a number of the General’s closest advisors. There’d been no way to get a warning to Ashayna and Sorntar about Trensler’s power, and they couldn’t reach either Ashayna or Sorntar using any of the mental pathways.
Summer Flame had been ready to knock down the Stonemantle Residence’s main gate, gallop through the corridors until he reached the War Room, and crush Trensler under his hooves. It was Lamarra who suggested the Santhyrians take a less drastic way, by wandering the gardens, grazing until they just happen to find an irresistible patch of grass under the War Room’s window.
Shadowdancer, Winter’s Frost, and Summer Flame had all agreed with Lamarra’s plan. So Sorsha found herself in Lamarra’s room, waiting rather unhappily for the next sketchy report.
Thanks to the Santhyrians’ exceptional hearing, she already knew how Sorntar and the General had fielded Lord-Master Trensler’s questions. Periodically, Shadowdancer would touch Sorsha’s mind and inform her how the meeting progressed. Mostly, it sounded like boring political doings. She didn’t give a gold piece about that useless drivel. She wanted to know how Ashayna and Sorntar fared. But the Santhyrians couldn’t speculate, beyond the fact Sorntar wouldn’t be so calm if he thought his bondmate was in danger.
For that matter, Ashayna wasn’t subtle if those she loved were in danger either. And Sorsha was willing to bet her sister loved her Phoenix bondmate even if Ashayna hadn’t realized it herself yet. Ashayna was stubborn beyond belief.
“A trait that seems to flow through all those with Stonemantle blood, little mane ornament.”
When Shadowdancer’s mind merged with hers, she immediately released the breath she’d been holding. Only then realizing just how scared she’d been.
“Shadowdancer, what news?”
“Sorntar and Ashayna are safe. The meeting is over and they’re on their way to see you.”
“Thank the Light. What else?”
“Sorntar is going to contact his mother. He’ll get called back to Grey Spires; the Queen can’t risk her son remaining here. Not after what we’ve discovered. Sorntar and Ashayna are concerned for you and Lamarra.”
“I’m concerned for me too.” Sorsha joked with a humor she didn’t feel. “And Lamarra….and every other soul in River’s Divide. I don’t know what Trensler is, but I know evil when I feel it.”
“I won’t leave you.”
Sorsha’s heart did a funny little skip at Shadowdancer’s words. Did he mean more by them than protecting his new friends?
She didn’t know, and wasn’t given the chance to find out, even if her new uncertainty hadn’t stopped her from asking. There was a soft knock on the door and then it was opening. Lamarra rushed forward and embraced Ashayna before Sorsha had even fully registered two others now stood in the room with them.
Ashayna returned Lamarra’s hug a bit belatedly, but with genuine love. When Lamarra finally released her, Ashayna walked over to Sorsha. They hugged fiercely, and then her oldest sister returned to Prince Sorntar’s side. Ashayna crossed her arms and inclined her head in Sorntar’s direction.
The Phoenix tilted his head to the side, the feathers of his crest raising a hand span before they flattened again. His tight-lipped expression showed his unhappiness.
“I don’t know what Trensler is.” He said at last, meeting Sorsha’s eyes. “But he’s dangerous. Shadowdancer explained what happened to you on our way here.”
Sorntar winced and massaged
his temples, fingers disappearing up into his indigo crest. The Phoenix’s dark bronze skin seemed stretched tight over his cheek bones and his eyes looked sunken. Overall, Sorntar’s normal breathtaking handsomeness was marred by what Sorsha would call extreme weariness.
Sorntar sighed and dropped his hands. They rubbed along his leather kilt in a half-conscious manner, as if trying to rub away whatever residue Trensler had left behind. Sorsha thought she knew how Sorntar felt. Unclean. Tainted. And somehow less.
“He feeds on power,” Sorntar said. He paused, grabbed a chair and turned it so he could sit on it backwards. He shifted his wings and fanned his tail out as he settled, resting his folded arms upon the back of the chair. “I’m familiar with some of the creatures of darkness that feed on magic, but I don’t know them all. More concerning is my Larnkin’s new dormancy. He had been waking, my powers growing. Now there is very little sense of awareness from him. Whatever Trensler did weakened my Larnkin enough that he returned to sleep. And whatever can do that to something as powerful as a Larnkin is best left to the Elders.”
“Shadowdancer and I experienced something similar as you described before Trensler tried to kill us.” Sorsha swallowed with difficulty, her mouth suddenly dry as three day old bread. “We couldn’t even talk to each other using mindspeech.”
“I had trouble reaching Ashayna’s mind,” Sorntar mused. “But she seemed completely unaffected by Trensler.”
Ashayna snorted. “Unaffected wouldn’t be the word I’d have used, but yes, Sorntar’s right. Whatever Trensler was doing didn’t affect me to the extent it did the rest of you. Something about him has always set my teeth on edge, but I’ve never felt drained. But then again, maybe it’s because my Larnkin is a bit of an oddity all on its own.”
Sorntar mumbled something under his breath and looked like he was planning on launching into an old conversation. Ashayna waved him to silence. “We need to deal with Trensler. I’m not leaving here without Sorsha and Lamarra. They both have magic and the Acolytes already know that. It’s too dangerous to leave them behind when we go.”
“Don’t worry. We won’t leave them behind unprotected.” Sorntar’s voice softened, and he focused on his bondmate as if she was the only one in the room. “Come here.”
Sorsha suddenly felt like she was intruding on something private.
Ashayna paused for a long awkward moment, but she went to Sorntar. He took her hands in his and pressed a kiss into each palm. When Ashayna closed her eyes and released a loud sigh, magic flooded out across the room, tingling against Sorsha’s exposed skin. A soft smile touched Sorntar’s lips, and the love he had for his bondmate was obvious to everyone in the room except the one he directed it at.
Once again Sorsha was envious of her older sister. Ashayna, who hated magic and wanted nothing but to serve as a scout in the army, had been given a wondrous gift and an opportunity to do something great. Yet by her sour look, she despised her magic and barely tolerated her bondmate. Ash, you’re an idiot. If I’d been given such power and something as special as a soulmate, I wouldn’t be regretting it or cursing my fate, Sorsha thought to herself. She glanced out the window and imagined what her life would be like if Shadowdancer was host to her Larnkin’s other half, her bondmate.
No, if Shadowdancer looked at her with such love in his eyes, Sorsha wouldn’t deny that gift. But he didn’t, and he probably never would.
Sorntar took a couple deep breaths then looked up, studying first Lamarra before letting his eyes settle on Sorsha. “After hearing our news, my mother wants us to return.”
“You were able to talk to her?”
“Yes. A Phoenix is capable of long range mindspeech the same as a Santhyrian. Though, among my people, there needs to be some familiarity—family or the special bond of friendship. My mother was very clear with her instructions. Sorsha, you and Lamarra will be guarded by the three Santhyrians and will join your friends Beatrice, Roan, and Old Mother to await the arrival of the Elders. They’ll be coming by Gate and will be here shortly. Once here, the Elders will observe Trensler and his Acolytes to see if they can find out what he calls master. If they can deal with this situation without damaging the peace treaty, they will. If not…you and Lamarra will already be with Old Mother and her grandchildren.”
Sorntar turned his attention to Lamarra. “To prevent suspicions, Ash and I will return to Grey Spires as planned. If the elders report Trensler is more than they can handle alone, the Santhyrians will spirit you both off to the safety of the Herd.”
Sorsha thought how she’d always felt safe with Old Mother and her two grandchildren. Before Trensler had attacked her, the forest had seemed like a second home. Now it didn’t. Trensler wielded too much power, and nowhere seemed safe. She’d just have to settle for temporarily safe, she supposed.
“If something does happen and Lamarra and I are forced to leave, I want Old Mother, Beatrice, and Roan to come with us immediately. I don’t trust the Acolytes. If they can find Shadowdancer and me in the forest, they can find Old Mother.”
Sorntar nodded. “My mother is in agreement.”
“Excellent.”
“It’s settled then,” Sorntar said, sounding unhappy at having to tuck his tail and run. She understood his pride. She didn’t like the fact Trensler could drive her out of her home either. But they couldn’t assassinate Trensler and every other Acolyte without starting a war.
Chapter Eight
From his cliff-side perch, Trensler gazed down upon the port city of River’s Divide as it stirred awake for the day. Even situated halfway up the rocky slope, he still couldn’t escape the ocean breeze, its briny essence quick to permeate every surface—be it skin, fabric, or animal hide—with equal abandon until everything held the same ripe scent of salt, seaweed, and fish entrails.
Trensler wrinkled his nose at the heavy scents of mortality. The cries of sea birds and merchants selling their wares broke the early dawn silence, adding to the patchwork chaos below.
The farther from the docks one traveled the fainter the smell of salt and fish became; but only in the fields far inland and the wilds beyond could one be truly free of the odors altogether, he had learned. He frowned with distaste.
Soon, he’d be free of the rank scent of mortality altogether if he continued to serve his master well. But not just yet. There was business to attend to again today in the port settlement.
His gaze trailed across to where the great town houses of the privileged stood on the far side of the harbor, away from the docks and smells of fishing. On one prominent hill, overlooking its lesser cousins, sat the Stonemantle Residence. Its courtyard was awash with the day staff arriving and soldiers busy with various tasks.
Near the stables two figures, dressed in rich riding skirts, made their way to the front of the large building where grooms already had two sleek, well mannered horses saddled and ready.
Ah, it looked as if his ‘business’ was going to be so kind as to come to him. He stood, stretched out kinks, and quickly followed the trail up to the bluff’s peak.
Once there Trensler raised one arm and gestured behind him. A soft rustling of robes, followed by the sound of hooves on dried grass answered his summons. Keldar came out of the forest leading two horses. He passed the reins of one into Trensler’s outstretched hand and then bowed.
“My Lord, what are your orders?”
“Hunt down the General’s daughters before they reach the protection of their horse-like companions. I don’t want a repeat of the river fiasco.”
“As my lord wishes.” Keldar bowed again and then mounted his own steed. Eight more dark clad Acolytes emerged from the shadowy tree line to follow Trensler’s second in command.
“Sorsha…my gelding can’t keep this pace.”
Lamarra’s out-of-breath-comment only reinforced what Sorsha had already known a quarter candlemark ago, but hadn’t told Lamarra so as not to frighten her. “We can’t stop. Shadowdancer said the Elders were explicit with their orders. Bu
t we’ll have to slow our pace or risk bursting your mount’s heart.”
Sorsha slowed her mare to a fast trot, which seemed almost too much for Lamarra’s gelding to maintain. The poor beast was no hunter, his build better suited to pull a plow than maintain this mad dash across the wilds. Lamarra leaned forward to pat her steed’s sweaty neck, and her lips moved in what Sorsha thought might be a silent apology to the stoic beast.
Foam dotted the coat of Sorsha’s bay mare too, and a spike of guilt shot through her for riding the mare so hard, but she feared Trensler’s men more. Besides, if Trensler caught up, he’d probably kill their horses and leave them to be ravaged by predators, thereby shifting suspicion from himself and his men when she and Lamarra didn’t return.
If they died out here in the wilderness, General Stonemantle would never know what befell them. A cold helpless rage soured Sorsha’s gut, one she did her best to hide while she called encouragement to the two tiring horses.
Lamarra cast a quick look behind her. “I don’t think we’re still being followed,” she said, with barely a thread of doubt in her voice. “Perhaps the Elders subdued the Acolytes or at least waylaid them?”
Fate isn’t as kind as you, my deceptively gentle-hearted sister.
Lamarra faced forward again, her expression devoid of emotion, as if the doubt Sorsha had heard in her tone was nothing but the imaginings of her own overly stressed mind. Out of all three sisters, Sorsha supposed Lamarra had mastered their father’s stony mask the best.
Queen-like. That label fit her second oldest sister. While Ashayna was the warrior-heir of the Stonemantle name, Lamarra was the regal queen. With a hint of chagrin, Sorsha realized trying to live up to the two was probably what had first awakened the rebellious part of her nature. If Sorsha couldn’t be a warrior like Ash, she’d be damned if she was going to be the perfect lady-in-waiting to the ice queen Lamarra—no matter how much their mother had tried to shape such an outcome for her youngest daughter. At least that had been Sorsha’s thinking up until a few months ago when Ashayna had been taken from them.
Herd Mistress (In Deception's Shadow Book 2) Page 6
