Alliance Forged

by Kylie Griffin

  Kymora’s lips twisted in a wry smile. Maybe she should have… indulged. She could certainly use a little insight on what to do now. Especially after the conversation they’d had the previous evening.

  And hadn’t that gone well? A shiver worked its way across her scalp. Varian had shut down faster than a trader during a market brawl. He’d rejected her overture with such steely coldness she’d almost been convinced of his sincerity. If she hadn’t felt the erratic flaring of his aura after she’d retreated from him, she’d have never been aware of his conflicting emotions. He hadn’t been as uncaring or as unaffected as he’d wanted her to believe.

  She sighed softly. Merciful Mother, she’d been right to tell him the truth, but he hadn’t been ready to hear it, and pushing him wasn’t going to work. How many times had Kalan or her tutors warned her about being too direct? She grimaced.

  What was he afraid of? His past had something to do with it, yet he wasn’t likely to enlighten her. Would asking Lisella or Zaune help? Meanwhile, acting on Varian’s interest would require subtlety. He offered her friendship. So there was something she could work with, and work with it she would.

  Varian’s fingers tightened on her waist. “Kymora, are you awake?” His sleep-roughened whisper sent thousands of needlelike chills over her body and reminded her just how intimate a position they shared.

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  How long had he been conscious? Would he mention anything about the beginnings of an erection she’d felt pressing against her a moment ago?

  “It’s just after dawn.”

  It seemed not. She sighed softly. Instead he moved away from her, and the absence of his body warmth had her biting her lip. Forest needles crunched as he pushed to his feet.

  “If you feel up to it, we need to get back to the village.”

  Why was he ignoring what he felt? She sat up, too, grimacing as her muscles protested. “I’m a little sore from the swim yesterday but I’ll be fine once I get moving again.” Lady of Light, awkwardness and hesitancy shouldn’t dictate the discussion of something as beautiful and natural as attraction. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  His short answer had her tilting her head, trying to gauge his disposition, but his monotone gave her little to go on. Nor could she sense anything from his aura.

  Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them. “Is my dress dry?” Half a heartbeat later, the smooth knap of material brushed against her skin. “Thank you.”

  She fumbled with it a little figuring out where the front was, then slipped it on. She heard Varian dressing as she laced the neckline. With a layer of clothing on, she felt a lot less vulnerable and more able to tackle the conversation she knew they had to have. Whether it would be a one-sided exchange remained to be seen.

  She cleared her throat. “Varian, about last night…”

  “Kymora, just leave it be.”

  The hardness in his voice was like an iron grate closing solidly in her face. She fiddled with the hem of her dress.

  “I’m sorry if I pressured you when I shouldn’t have. Much like you, I tend to speak rather plainly.” She laced her fingers together to hide their shaking. “I’m not apologizing for speaking my heart, but I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  As expected, Varian didn’t respond. After a long moment, the warmth from the fire on her skin was cut off. The leather of his breeches creaked as he crouched between her and the flames. His familiar earthy scent filled her nostrils.

  “You never know when to leave well enough alone, do you?” His soft whisper held an underlying thread of danger. Dark tendrils writhed at the edges of his aura; the harsh texture of them rasped against her mind.

  Unbidden, a shiver raced up her spine. Her mouth dried. She started when his hand cupped her jaw. His thumb smoothed over her skin. Heat tingled where he touched her.

  “Varian?” Even to her own ears, she sounded breathless.

  “Shh.” He inhaled, then released the breath in a deep sigh. “The bruise on your face is as black as root moss.” He inhaled twice more before he spoke again. “If those renegades had crossed our path yesterday, I’d have killed them for doing this to you. No guilt. No second thoughts. No remorse.”

  His voice had gone hard again, only this time with an anger so deep and menacing she’d have wet herself had it been directed at her. Again his thumb stroked her jaw with featherlightness, such a contrast. Her heart pounded so hard she wasn’t sure if it was in reaction to his admission or with arousal from his touch.

  “That’s who I am, Kymora.”

  Each word came saturated with a rawness that tore at her. Her thoughts jerked to a halt. Did he think she abhorred killing because of her religious views?

  “Varian, protecting someone from harm isn’t wrong,” she assured him. “The Lady advises us to seek alternatives, but She doesn’t condemn deadly force, not when it means protecting the weak or innocent or helping someone in need.”

  “Altruism wouldn’t be my intent for killing them.”

  She fisted her fingers in the folds of her dress. Did he believe her a total innocent?

  “I’m under no illusion you’d kill them with hatred in your heart.” Through his touch on her skin, she felt him start. “Lady forgive me, but if someone I cared about was hurt, my motives would be just as base.” She shrugged and gentled her tone. “I certainly don’t fault you for admitting this about yourself. That’s a part of being human.”

  She used the phrase only as a figure of speech, but being referred to as human shook Varian to the core. If only it were true, then he’d be free to lean forward and brush his lips against hers, in thanks and with the desire rushing through his veins with every beat of his heart.

  He stared at her moist, full lips, wanting to taste her so badly his innards burned. She tempted him as he’d never been tempted before. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, he grimaced at the lack of give in his breeches. She made him so hard, and without even being aware of it.

  Long after she’d fallen asleep last night, he’d spent hours reminding himself to keep her at arm’s length. She was the Lady’s Handmaiden, an advocate of peace, a minister of tolerance and harmony, the light of her people.

  His complete opposite.

  Any relationship with her demanded trust and an openness he couldn’t afford to indulge in. It would expose her to the darkness inside him, the part of him he couldn’t live without. Not if he wanted to keep his people safe. But now, with the light of day, and her courage in the face of his opposition, his resolve crumbled like a bank of soil under flood.

  He withdrew his hand, unsurprised to see his fingers trembling. She elicited that kind of reaction from him so easily it scared him. Her apology came from the misconception she’d caused his discomfort. He shook his head. He was his own worst enemy.

  A strange scraping sound outside the mouth of the cave caught his hearing. Pivoting, he surged to his feet and took a step forward, placing himself between her and whatever threat lurked outside. He bit back a deep-throated growl, knowing the emotion originated from the half of him that relished the thought of killing the intruder.

  “Varian?” Kymora’s query was barely a whisper. Her fingertips brushed his lower back before latching on to his shirt.

  “Shh, there’s someone outside.” He guided her to the wall of the cave and placed her hand against it. “Stay here while I take a look.”

  Watching where he put his feet, he crept toward the entrance. Bare hands wouldn’t be much of a weapon against an armed rebel. He found a fist-sized rock and hefted it. The lack of finesse in using such a weapon wouldn’t negate its intent. He’d done it before. Though vicious and messy, his goal would be achieved.

  Carefully, he peered around the jagged edge, keeping to the darker side. The first light of the day glowed through the canopy, but the trees grew close together and blocked out most of the light. Shadows of differing shades cloaked the forest floor. />
  Disregarding the distraction of the leaves fluttering in the gentle morning breeze, he scanned the forest, lingering where the trunks were thickest and offered the most cover. The absence of bird and wildlife in the vicinity betrayed the presence of someone. His nostrils flared as he detected not only the fresh scent of water from the river but one much more familiar.

  Placing his weapon aside, he stepped into plain view. “Zaune?”

  “Varian?” The hushed voice came from his left. The Na’Chi scout emerged from a thicket of bushes. The dark colors of his shirt and breeches were hard to distinguish from the shadows. He glanced over his shoulder. “Seralla, over here.”

  A shorter, slender form emerged from the forest and picked her way around boulders and shrubs, covering the distance on silent feet. Zaune waited for the female Light Blade to draw level with him before they both made their way toward him.

  “Are you all right, Varian?” Zaune asked. “We found where you and the Temple Elect went off the escarpment.”

  “We’re both fine.” He raised his voice. “Kymora, it’s Zaune and Seralla.”

  The two scouts scrambled up the small ridge as Kymora joined him at the entrance. Knowing she’d feel the absence of her staff, he caught her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

  “Thank the Lady you’re both safe.” Seralla smiled as she seated herself on a rock. “We’ve been searching for you all night.”

  “What of the village? The renegades?” Varian asked.

  “The village is secure. We captured ten rebels. Arek is guarding them. He sent us to track the two pursuing you.” Zaune’s grimace told him all he needed to know. “We lost their trail.”

  “Arek will probably have sent a messenger to the city, to Kalan,” Kymora murmured. “He’ll send help.”

  Varian placed a hand on top of Kymora’s and squeezed in acknowledgment.

  “How did you both cross the river?” Kymora asked.

  Seralla pointed back through the forest. “There’s a submerged bank downriver. We waded over.”

  Varian nodded; that was one problem taken care of. Putting Kymora through another stressful swim was the last thing he wanted to do. Her soft sigh was barely audible.

  “Then let’s get moving.” His thoughts turned to the attack on the village. The anger from a minute ago seethed to the surface, and he knew it edged his voice as he spoke. “I want to get back to the village as soon as possible.”

  Chapter 8

  “THERE’S nothing salvageable in here.” Arek shook his head as he scanned the interior from the charred doorway of the third fire-damaged house.

  Sunlight filtered through the uneven holes in the thatched roof, spotlighting blackened furniture and shattered pottery. Some objects were burned beyond recognition. Something in the debris hit his boot. Bending over, he plucked a child’s straw doll from the ash. Three limbs were missing; the fourth had been partially eaten away by flames. Rubbing a gloved finger over the blackened face, he watched the brittle surface crumble to dust.

  The heavy odor of smoke and smoldering embers filled his nostrils, the acrid scent tinged by loss, heartache, and grief. Shaking his head, he dropped the doll back into the ash. No one was going to forget the smell of this tragedy in a hurry.

  “Second Barial!”

  The urgent shout was accompanied by the pounding of boots along the pathway. He turned to see a young girl in a healers’ green tunic and pants running toward him, her dark curly hair bouncing against her shoulders.

  “Check out the next dwelling,” Arek told the Na’Chi woman beside him. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He stepped away from the damaged house as the healers’ apprentice skidded to a stop. Her freckled face was flushed with exertion, her expression pinched by tension. “Rissa, what’s wrong?”

  “Lisella said to come quickly!” The gasped reply was accompanied by a tug to his sleeve. Wide, brown eyes peered up at him. “Rystin and some of the others are outside the house where you imprisoned the rebel Light Blades. They’re demanding your warriors hand them over….”

  Arek cursed and took off for the center of the village. He’d sent more scouts out at dawn to help Zaune locate Varian and Kymora. The sun was barely three hours into the sky. Why wasn’t Rystin waiting for their return? What had changed his mind?

  Ahead he heard raised voices and shouting. Putting on a burst of speed, he took the last turn and almost barreled into a group of people clustered at the head of the pathway. Several adults, human and Na’Chi, were herding young children away from a commotion in the middle of the communal area.

  “You’re outnumbered, Light Blades. Move aside….”

  Three Light Blade warriors stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the closed door of a house. All were alert, their stances wide, their weight balanced on the balls of their feet.

  Jole took half a pace forward. “This isn’t a wise move, my friend.” He gestured to his left. “Listen to Lisella.”

  “Rystin, you promised to wait until Varian returned.” Through the press of bodies, Lisella moved in front of him. “Give the scouts more time to find him and Kymora.”

  “We’ve waited long enough. He’s not here.” The warrior nodded to one of the half dozen other Na’Chi standing with him. Lisella was gently but firmly drawn away from the brewing confrontation. “Someone has to take charge.”

  Arek moved to intercept Rystin, his thumbs hooked in the belt at his waist, relaxed, unthreatening.

  “Back off, Rystin.” He kept his voice calm. “These rebels remain under our protection.”

  “I told you they’d protect their own.” The scout’s lip curled. “They’re not interested in justice.”

  An uneasy murmur swept through the gathered crowd, and three other Na’Chi moved forward to join the group with Rystin. Arek’s gaze narrowed. Ten against four and the Na’Chi possessed superior strength. Not good odds.

  “Last time I’m going to ask…” Rystin growled. Sunlight caught the edge of a blade in the Na’Chi’s fist. “Your move.”

  “No, Rystin!” Lisella tried to break free of the scout who held her.

  Jole stepped forward and Arek flung out an arm to stop him taking the offensive. “Hold!”

  Another voice echoed his order, the deep voice coming from his left. The Na’Chi spun on their heels as Varian and a small party of six, including Kymora, emerged from between two houses.

  Arek released a silent breath. Thank the Lady. He and Lisella shared a relieved glance before he homed in on Kymora. Other than an ugly bruise on her jaw and looking a little tired, she seemed fine.

  Varian strode into the village center. What was going on here? His nostrils flared at the combined odors eddying around the gathering. Anger, fear, bitterness, and resentment, the strength of each clearing the tiredness from his body and charging it with adrenaline. The rush was enough to wake the beast within.

  It was hard to tell what emotion came from which person. Varying degrees of unease and tautness etched everyone’s faces. Rystin was the only one with a blade drawn, yet hands rested close to the hilts of daggers or on belts close to their weapons. The crawling sensation on the nape of his neck said they’d all been only moments away from conflict.

  “Put away your weapon.” Varian issued the command in a quiet but hard voice.

  Rystin’s black-flecked gaze darted from Jole to Arek, then to Varian, then he turned his back on them and dropped into a half crouch to face off with Varian, the move an offensive one. The scout had a temper, but surely he wouldn’t attack?

  Arek’s soft, sharp inhalation registered. Varian kept his gaze on Rystin, but from the corner of his eye, some within the crowd exchanged uneasy glances. Lisella’s expression went from concern to raw fear.

  “Unless you’re challenging my leadership, I’d sheath that dagger, Rystin”—his gaze dropped to the warrior’s weapon, then lifted, one eyebrow arching—“and tell me what’s going on.”

  “Someone has to look out for our people,” Rys
tin snarled, fingers flexing around the hilt of his weapon before tightening again. “Your leadership killed two of our own.”

  Varian’s frown deepened and he glanced to Lisella.

  “Eyan and Geanna were murdered by the rebels,” she explained, her chin trembling. “We buried them this morning.”

  Grief stabbed like a jagged splinter of metal into Varian’s gut. The faces of both young scouts flashed through his mind. He’d taken them on many outings to test their tracking skills. Eyan’s improvement during their last foray had earned him a compliment. It’d brought a shy but proud smile to the boy’s face.

  Rystin’s actions now made sense.

  Varian swallowed hard. “You have proof which rebels did this?”

  “When have we discriminated between aggressors?” The scout stabbed a finger toward the house. “They attacked us! Eyan and Geanna were butchered. They deserve to die! All of them!”

  “Our alliance with the humans—”

  “Was a mistake!” Rystin’s furious shout had those standing with the scout voicing their agreement. “Since when have we delayed meting out justice or defending ourselves against those who would see us dead?”

  “Since we asked for sanctuary.” His tone was as uncompromising. “We all agreed to the alliance when Kalan proposed it. With it went our cooperation. Justice may not be swift but it will be handed out in time.”

  “We can dispense it now,” one of the other Na’Chi argued.

  “Yes, we could, but what impression will it leave on the humans who don’t understand us?”

  Rystin snorted. “Very few want to understand us! We’d have been better off remaining in Na’Reish territory. At least there we knew who our enemies were. Here we have no idea!”

  Varian nodded solemnly. “Granted, knowing who to trust here isn’t easy, but it’s going to take time to show the humans we’re different from the Na’Reish.” He locked gazes with Rystin. “The accusations leveled by Davyn and his supporters will be proved right if we kill the rebels now. Is that what you want?”