Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1)

by Kylie Griffin

  To a child raised on rejection and disdain, Her compassion and love fulfilled a need she’d never known existed until then. She was also a part of her mother’s world, something Annika had always craved to learn more about.

  The Na’Reish refused to acknowledge a deity of any sort. They believed only in the power of might, enslaving those who submitted, killing those who resisted.

  Compassion belongs to the weak, love an illusion for fools. The scathing words of a father who’d showed her neither one.

  Annika dug into her pouch and drew out her mother’s Light Blade amulet. A familiar warmth filled her as she allowed herself to think about her dream of living and learning more about her mother. She smoothed her thumb over the small sun symbol etched into the metal disk. She knew nothing about the woman who’d worn it but had tried to imagine many times what she might have been like.

  Strong. Compassionate. Loyal. All qualities a Light Blade warrior possessed. Physically, she knew the woman had blond hair. Annika hadn’t inherited Savyr’s dark locks. Loving? Probably, given the right situation. Most humans loved someone.

  Would her mother have loved her? Annika peered into the distance, not really seeing the forest or the mountains. Deep down she knew what she wanted the answer to be but hovering just behind it was what she suspected to be the truth.

  Having attended the births of several Na’Chi babies with Hesia, she’d seen the loathing and revulsion on the faces of their human mothers. They’d begged Hesia to kill their children. It didn’t matter that it was innocent of any of the crimes of the father. The babies had disappeared and when questioned, the old healer had refused to explain. Annika had never pushed her, fearing the worst.

  Had her mother begged the healer to kill her after she’d been born? It was too late to ask Hesia but if she continued on to Sacred Lake, surely someone would know more about her mother and be able to answer the questions she’d wondered about for nearly twenty years.

  The crunch of gravel under boots drew Annika from her thoughts. She turned, dreading her visitor would be one of the river-traders. She didn’t think she had the strength to deal with their suspicion and dislike right now.

  The sight of Kalan striding up the slope to join her filled her with relief. Her breath caught in the back of her throat at his striking appearance. River-trader clothes looked good on him.

  A strange heat burned within her as she began at the scuffed leather boots and worked her gaze upward. The faded breeches clung to him like a second skin. She could see each muscle in his legs flex as he walked but the material was still supple enough to give him freedom of movement.

  The dagger taken from the Na’Reish rider hung on his belt, sheathed and strapped to his right thigh. A long-sleeved shirt fit his broad shoulders perfectly. The laces at its neck remained untied, allowing her a tantalizing glimpse of the tanned skin of his chest.

  His hair fell in haphazard waves around his face, softening the harsh look that came with the shadow of stubble on his jaw. He exuded such confidence and self-assurance. Once again, she found herself captivated by him.

  Her face flamed at the memory of him sprawled naked on the bank of the river after they’d escaped from the tunnel. Muscular yet lean. She focused on the bare skin peeking through the laces of his shirt. She swallowed at the thought of the warmth of his skin, the steel hard strength of the muscles beneath it. What would it be like to have him touch her? Like a lover?

  Desire burned through her so swift and strong she was unable to move. For the first time in her life she wanted to be intimate with someone. Annika blinked, shocked at the direction of her thoughts. Inwardly she cringed as she remembered the expression on Kalan’s face back in the pit, and then when he’d found out who she was. What was she thinking?

  Looking at him made her wish for things that never could be. She was neither demon nor human. He hadn’t wanted her anywhere near him, and she doubted he’d welcome her touch now that he knew who she was. While he claimed to be open-minded about her being Na’Chi, his recent actions had revealed his true feelings.

  “Have you made your decision yet?” Kalan asked.

  Annika refused to look at him as he drew level with her. Her emotions were nowhere near under control and she didn’t want him questioning the color of her eyes.

  “Yes.” She squared her shoulders and, even though she was tired, reached deep for the well of strength she knew existed inside her. “The Lady guides us in mysterious ways, doesn’t She? Although this time I think She’s made Her will quite clear. I travel with you.” She glanced at him. Relief flickered across his face. So his offer of a choice had been genuine. “My decision surprises you?”

  His smile made her heart lurch and her innards burn once more. “I wasn’t sure if my arguments had swayed you.”

  “They didn’t.” His smile lost strength with her blunt words. She’d never hidden from the truth. “If I’m to survive, what other choice do I have?” There was no going back. Tucking her mother’s amulet back into the pouch, she drew in a deep breath. “I’ll be tolerated in your world, just as I was in mine. It’s the best I can hope for.”

  VARIAN crouched to examine the faint scuff marks pressed into the moss on the boulder-strewn ridge. Placing his hand beside the indentation, he noted the size of it and knew it belonged to the heel of a boot. Someone short, light in weight. A partial footprint was impressed into the moss beside it. The depth indicated the second person was taller, heavier, and by the width of the print, definitely male.

  He scanned the ground ahead. Small boulders protruded from the leaf litter as the moss gave way to rocky ground. There was little soil on this stretch of the trail, so it made looking for tracks more difficult. His lips curled upward as he spotted an overturned rock just ahead, as if something had caught its edge.

  He followed the faint signs along the trail, his senses attuned to every scent carried on the gentle breeze, every leaf flutter in the trees above him and the sounds of animals in the undergrowth around him.

  A flicker of movement to his left among the trees caught his eye. Crouching low, he curled his hand around the hilt of his dagger. A young man, his dark hair twisted into multiple braids and dressed in brown, stepped out from behind a tree. Violet eyes met his—hard, knowledgeable, older than his seventeen years of age.

  Varian relaxed and rose to his full height. “What are you doing here, Zaune?”

  The youth was one of his best scouts, a fierce fighter and a loner, like himself, which probably accounted for why he liked the youth so much.

  “Lisella sent me. She’s called a halt.”

  He grunted. “She did, did she?”

  “You’ve been pushing the group hard, Varian. It’s difficult for them to travel quietly and at the pace you’ve set. They’ve managed but they’re worn out.”

  Varian raked a hand through his hair and tamped down his frustration. “The Light Blade’s escape has been discovered. I’ve spotted three Patrols in the last two hours. We need to get across the river into human territory.”

  “Tired people make mistakes.”

  He rubbed his jaw, felt the hard ridge of flesh where his scar intersected it. “How many?”

  “Seven, all children.”

  Zaune also looked drawn, although he doubted the Na’Chi would admit to any weakness. They’d all learned to be tough, had to, in order to survive.

  He motioned to the tracks on the ground. “They’re only a day ahead of us. We can’t afford to fall any farther behind, not when we have to travel downstream in order to cross safely where the river narrows.”

  He wasn’t telling the scout anything he didn’t already know. Zaune waited patiently for his orders.

  “Pull five of our scouts off duty. Get them and two other adults within the group to carry the children. We need a few hours’ distance between us and that last Patrol before we stop for the night.”

  Zaune nodded. “Lisella won’t like it.”

  “She’s not in charge.” His
gaze narrowed. “Remind her of that, and if she doesn’t like it, tell her to take it up with me tonight. Get the group moving.”

  He was pleased at how quickly the scout blended in with the dappled shadows of the forest and was gone. His thoughts turned to Lisella. The safety of forty-seven individuals weighed heavily enough on him and those he’d trained as scouts without her countermanding his orders. Headstrong and stubborn, he wondered if the young Na’Chi woman realized the danger she was placing them all in.

  Zaune would make sure the group moved on. His lips thinned. Lisella needed to realize that this journey wasn’t going to be like living at the compound. Debating every decision wasn’t an option. For the moment their survival depended on everyone following his orders, no questions asked.

  ANNIKA stood by the open doorway of the small barn, the hood of her cloak pulled well over her head as Kalan negotiated with the farmer for a night’s shelter and food. The man glanced over his shoulder at the young, pregnant woman watching them from near the small hut where she was sitting, mending clothes. Dressed simply, both reminded her of the farmers who visited Whitewater Crossing in the harvest season to trade with Vash.

  “With Lessie’s time due I could use a hand with a few chores.” The farmer waved a calloused hand toward the hut. “The shutters on the windows need fixin’ afore the summer storms, ’n I ain’t had the chance to water the stock this evenin’. Lessie makes a good stew but we don’t have much, Light Blade…”

  Kalan gripped the man’s upper arm. “Whatever you can spare is appreciated.”

  Sighing softly, Annika placed her pouch on the ground at her feet, and gently rotated her healing shoulder, easing stiff muscles. They’d traveled hard and fast most of the day, avoiding the well-used trail from the ferry, knowing any Na’Reish Patrol would use it if they crossed the river in search of them. Instead Kalan had led her into the thick forest and they’d forged their own path along gullies and over hills.

  “I’ll get the hammer ’n nails for you…” The man pointed to the well over by the stockyards. “The bucket’s over there ’n there’s hay in the barn.”

  She waited until he’d started toward the hut before closing the distance between her and Kalan. “I’ll take care of the animals,” she murmured, expecting him to protest, astonished when he didn’t. She tested his scent, puzzled by the absence of acrid overtones that should have projected his suspicion and distrust. “I’ll wait in the barn when I’m finished.”

  He nodded. “It shouldn’t take too long to repair the shutters.”

  By the time she’d finished feeding and watering the animals, the sun was sinking behind the mountains. With the onset of evening came a cool breeze. Drawing a final bucket of water from the well, Annika took it and her pouch with her as she retreated inside the barn.

  There was enough light to see as she looked around the interior. Clean straw covered the floor of the half-dozen stalls and the loft above. After placing the bucket on the ground, she headed for the middle one. Straw was an improvement to spending the night on the cold floor of a cave. It took a moment to spread out the blankets.

  Grimacing at the grime on her hands, she unclasped her cloak as she returned to the bucket to wash her hands and face. The water was ice cold but it felt good to be clean.

  “Hello?” The female voice was hesitant. “Are you in here?”

  Annika’s stomach lurched. Soft footfalls sounded behind her. Snatching up her cloak, she put it on, tugging the hood forward to conceal her face. Heart pounding, she scrambled to her feet as the farmer’s wife appeared inside the entryway of the barn, holding a lantern and carrying a bag over one shoulder.

  The woman lifted the lantern higher, throwing the light farther into the barn. “Hello?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry iffen I startled you.” She offered a small smile as she hung the lantern on a hook by the stall where she’d set up their blankets. “I’m Lessie ’n I’ve brought you some dinner.”

  Annika stepped backward into the shadows. Thankfully the woman’s attention was on opening her bag. She set a lidded tureen, a hunk of bread, and a water flask down in the middle of the floor.

  “It’s not much…”

  The scent of an herb-laden stew filled the air.

  “It smells delicious. Lady bless you and your husband for your kindness.”

  The woman pushed back a handful of long, dark hair as she straightened. Surprise flitted across her face as she registered her location but she said nothing. “I overheard the Light Blade telling Stevar you helped him escape the demon’s fortress. ’Tis rare to hear of anyone doing that…”

  “It wasn’t easy but, by the grace of the Lady, here we are.”

  “Iffen I’m pryin’ jus’ tell me, but the only people I heard live there, ’sides the Na’Reish, are their slaves.” Lessie cocked her head to one side. “How is it you came to be in the fortress?”

  “I was there to help heal Kalan.” What exactly had he told them? “The opportunity to escape arose, so we took it.”

  “You’re a healer?” A hopeful smile broke over the woman’s face and she took a step closer. Annika tensed. “Would you have experience with birthin’?”

  “Yes.” While she didn’t want the woman to see her, Annika couldn’t refuse to assist her. “Do you need my help?”

  “Stevar took me to a healer a few months ago. Everything’s going well.” She gave a half shrug. “It’s jus’ my back aches almost every day…”

  “How far along are you?”

  “Eight months.”

  “No bleeding or contractions? Are you on your feet a lot?”

  “No, but Stevar needs my help ’round the farm.” A worried frown creased her brow. “Is there a problem?”

  “I don’t think so.” There was only one way to make certain everything was all right. “May I touch you?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Keeping her gaze downcast, Annika stepped into the light. She moved behind the young woman and placed a hand on her lower back. Focusing her thoughts, she felt the familiar warmth of her Gift flow through her. Lessie’s pain was a nagging ache. A smile curved Annika’s lips as she also sensed the life-force of the baby. He was healthy and happy.

  “Just as I suspected.” Annika rotated her hand gently, massaging the sore area. “You have muscle strain. Feel how I’m pressing my hand against you? Get Stevar to do this every morning and evening. It’ll bring relief to your back muscles.” She stepped around Lessie to find her pouch. Kneeling, she rifled through it and brought out a small bag. “A pinch of these herbs steeped as a tea will help ease the pain during the day.”

  “I don’t have nothin’ to trade for them—”

  “I’m not expecting payment.” Annika pressed the bag into the woman’s hands and closed her fingers around it. “You’ve shown kindness to complete strangers. Thank you.”

  After a moment’s hesitation the young woman nodded and tucked the bag into her dress pocket. “Will you tell me your name?”

  “Annika.”

  “It’s been a while since I had ’nuther woman to talk to, Annika. P’haps after dinner you might like to sit awhile with me?”

  Annika fisted a hand in her cloak. There was such longing in Lessie’s tone of voice, but the woman thought she was human. If Lessie ever discovered exactly what Annika was, she’d be appalled by her assumption. Following that would come the revulsion and denial of any offered friendship.

  Chewing on her bottom lip, Annika glanced toward the barn doorway. Where was Kalan?

  “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

  Annika hesitated. “No. I’m just… not used to this sort of situation.”

  “What situation?”

  “Slaves were punished for talking.”

  “Did the Na’Reish also make you wear the cloak?”

  “I have… marks… on my face I’d rather others didn’t see.” She didn’t want to lie to the woman. “My looks offended the Na’Reish.” A partial t
ruth; Lady forgive her.

  Lessie bit her lip. “I’m sorry iffen I made you uncomfortable.”

  A familiar, broad shouldered figure appeared in the doorway.

  “Annika?”

  Kalan’s deep voice sent a wave of relief washing through her. She sighed. His brows dipped low as his dark green eyes flickered from Lessie to her, direct, measuring. The irony of preferring his company as opposed to Lessie’s didn’t escape her.

  “We were just talking.” Her reassurance eased the intensity of his gaze but the tightness around his mouth didn’t lessen. Did he think she’d hurt a pregnant woman? Annika closed her pouch and stood. “I appreciate the invitation, Lessie, but I’m tired from our traveling. Thank you again for the food.”

  The young woman ran a hand over her rounded stomach, a disappointed smile on her face. “I guess Stevar’ll be wantin’ his dinner now that the chores are done.” She patted her pocket. “Thank you for the herbs. I’ll leave you the lantern. Sleep well.”

  Kalan shut the door after she’d left. “I didn’t realize she’d headed over here to deliver the meal. Are you all right?”

  She fumbled with the tie on her pouch and shot him a sideways glance. He’d been worried about her? Odd behavior considering his cold response to her at Whitewater Crossing. A flash of astonished pleasure raced through her anyway. She dipped her head to cover her confusion.

  “I’m fine.” Discarding the cloak, she lifted the lid on the tureen. Her mouth watered with the appetizing odor wafting out from underneath it. “Lessie believes I’m a slave from the fortress.”

  “I warned Stevar about the possibility of Na’Hord Patrols hunting for us this side of the border.” He snatched a rag hanging in one of the stalls and crouched by the bucket. “Start eating while the meal is hot. I’ll wash up.”

  He pulled off his shirt and set it aside. Annika froze, unprepared for the sight of his ridged abdomen and the play of muscles rippling across his naked chest. Sharp prickles of awareness stabbed the pit of her stomach. He was all solid muscle, lean and hard.

  The urge to reach out and touch the hard plane of his shoulders, to smooth away the droplets of water sparkling there was so strong Annika had to clamp her fingers around the lid of the tureen to stop herself from doing just that.