For a moment, the desire to have his brother witness how he’d won chased other thoughts from his mind. He, Keldar, second-born, now wore his father’s sword. He alone spoke for the house of Tanus. To twist the knife deeper, his brother’s intended wife still held the imprint of Keldar’s teeth on her flesh, his seed and blood in her body. Jaden had doted on the woman, entranced by her beauty but never appreciating her clever manipulations.
He stared at the tumultuous sky. “Are you proud of me now, Father? Do you see that I was the right choice?” He took a deep breath. His father was a warrior. He’d understand that Keldar had done what was needed. Tinlor’s death had united the Svistra better than his father’s wildest dreams.
The shock in his father’s eyes as he took his dying breath replayed in Keldar’s mind and soured his stomach. “You see, it was the will of the gods. The Blind Weaver’s web. Not my doing. I was only an instrument.” He gripped the railing until his knuckles turned white from the strain. An instrument of his father’s punishment. Yes. His father had stood in the way of Keldar’s destiny because of his blind loyalty to Jaden. He relaxed his grip.
Keldar had and would bring honor to their house. Jaden could only bring disgrace.
Then, like ice breaks stone, another thought slashed across his mind. When he’d claimed Noe, the council had assumed it, but Tinlor had never formally declared Jaden dead. If he came back…
Keldar’s gut churned. I won’t hand it over. Jaden would have to challenge him. Would he? He snorted. Of course he would. Even though Jaden threw his inheritance back in Father’s face, he’d want it now if only because Keldar had it. The fame, the glory, the power, and even Noe. Jaden would want it all back.
Behind him, Noe still slept behind the many sheer draperies surrounding the bed. As long as Jaden was out there, he held only a tentative hold on his position. The thought ate at his mind.
There was only one solution. The men he’d sent to find Jaden hadn’t returned, but his father had confirmed his brother was south of the White lands. He’d find him and when he did, Keldar would secure his place as commander of the Svistra army and sole heir of the house of Tanus.
Chapter Nine
Jaden froze midstep in his mad dash through the White Forest. Ahead, a flash of color broke the monochromatic landscape. He rushed toward it, attempting to ignore the whispering mists. Beneath the canopy of the White Forest, he couldn’t rely on scent or even sound to guide him. Selia was only half-visible under the white moss. Much longer and he might have missed her.
He knelt to brush the tendrils of moss away from her body, but they multiplied faster than he could move them and resisted with a strength that belayed their fragile appearance. Cursing, he flicked his wrist. His fingers closed around the hilt of the knife sheathed against his forearm. He cut Selia free, pulling her from the ground and the moss that already reached to reclaim its victim.
The forest stirred. Though Jaden couldn’t discern any movement, he felt a force of will turn in his direction. He resisted the pull to look into the mists but they surrounded him, and to close his eyes would be as dangerous. Holding Selia under her arms, he dragged her away from the most vigorous of the searching tendrils. The cloth covering his face shielded him from the bulk of the flowers’ fragrance but if the sucker-like tendrils managed to secure him, they’d both die a long, slow death.
Selia’s dusky skin was already pale and sickly. He quickly felt for a pulse. Shallow, but there. He brought his face close to feel her breath on his cheek.
Satisfied, he shifted her in his arms. Her head lolled against his chest. “You can’t have her. She’s mine.”
A weak wind rustled the leaves. “Too late.”
“Release her.” Jaden transferred Selia to his shoulder, holding her firmly with one arm. He pulled a round object from his pocket, a relic found in deserted ruins, and studied it in the misty light. The small metal arrow turned on a peg until it pointed toward what would be north.
“Do you come as an exchange?”
“No.” Holding the device in his hand and gazing at it every few steps, he walked quickly through the bone-white trees.
“Then stay a while.”
He looked up to find the way before him blocked and a path opening in another direction. The urge to walk down the easier paths that unfolded increased until he ached with the need. Taking shallow breaths, he focused on the device in his hand and continued, training his eye to disregard his perceptions.
Branches reached down and tore at his flesh as he angled between tree trunks. Slowly, a new certainty formed in his mind. He was headed toward the heart of the forest instead of out of it. Sweat beaded his brow, but Jaden set his mouth in a grim smile. The forest was working hard. She must be hungry.
He quickened his pace and trusted his and Selia’s life to the little metal arrow. As long as he was under their canopy, the mists and flowers would continue to feed on Selia.
As he neared the forest’s end, anger surged behind him and Selia moaned.
“No. You. Don’t.” With a wrenching effort, Jaden stepped out into the night. Selia jerked once and gasped. She was weak, but alive. Adjusting Selia in his arms, he ran across the meadow, hoping he hadn’t been too late.
The crackle of flames sounded so close, Selia wondered why she was cold. A hand cupped the back of her head, and a cup pressed to her mouth.
A familiar voice said, “Drink.”
Obediently, Selia did, almost gagging on the vile liquid. “Tastes like poison,” she sputtered, blinking to focus on Jaden.
“I’m curious. What makes you think poison wouldn’t be sweet?” The Svistra’s face was inches from hers. He was smiling, a look of exhausted relief in his eyes.
“I don’t know—but this is becoming a habit I’d like to break.”
A flicker of amusement crossed the golden irises.
“What…what happened?”
“You tried to cross the White Forest.”
At the memory of the soft moss and beautiful fragrance, her hands trembled around the cup. “You found me?”
“If I had been too much later, the Nameless god would have found you.”
She closed her eyes then opened them. “So are we even now? Or do I owe you one?”
Jaden regarded her steadily. His eyes weren’t gold, but pale brown with a sea of golden flecks dancing in his irises.
She blinked again, increasingly aware of his warmth and the spicy scent of him and torn between wanting to scramble away and the desire to bury her face in his chest and breathe deep. “I saved your life, you saved mine. Even?”
“If you say so.” Jaden laid her head back down, took the cup from her hands and sat next to her.
If they were even and the Svistra’s honor was satisfied, did that mean he’d only saved her from the forest to kill her?
He chuckled, then moved to a small pile of sticks on the opposite side of the fire. He’d changed. Instead of Oren’s castoffs, he wore a leather vest over a deep green shirt and brown leggings tucked into supple boots. A belt slung low over his narrow hips.
Selia’s face flamed. She turned to face him. “And what’s so funny?”
“No, Selia. I’m still not going to eat you.”
Can he read minds too? “But the debt is paid?”
“No. It doesn’t quite work that way.”
The flames flickered on Jaden’s face, highlighting the sharp cheekbones and slanted eyes as he fed sticks to the fire. Sometimes in the barn, she’d forgotten what he was. But now he moved with such a fluid grace, it struck her anew that Jaden was definitely more than human. He’s a Svistra. “How does it work?” she asked, more to break the silence than out of curiosity.
“The moment you saved my life, the Weaver knitted our strands together, and now we are joined. Even if our strands move apart at some point in the fabric of our lives,” Jaden wove his fingers together, “the joining remains.”
Selia blinked.
He laughed. “Is it so distaste
ful to be joined to a Svistra?”
Was it her imagination, or had there been a touch of bitterness in his mirth? It didn’t matter. His question was simple but with a complicated answer, one she wasn’t prepared to give. “Who is this Weaver you speak about?”
“Humans don’t know of the Weaver?”
“No. But he sounds a little like the Trickster.”
The flames continued to play with the planes and valleys of Jaden’s face as he crouched on the other side of the fire. “I’m familiar with your Trickster. I’ve seen altars scattered through the forest.”
Selia nodded. The Trickster had no temple because his priests couldn’t be trusted. Instead, people built random altars and left them to the elements. No one knew who received the offerings left on the altars. That was the Trickster’s concern.
“There are pronounced differences between them,” he continued. “The first being the Weaver is female. Another, she is blind.”
“Blind?”
“Yes. She weaves the strands of our lives with impartiality.”
“I see.”
“Do you? How else could she mistakenly weave a human and a Svistra together?”
There was definitely bitterness this time. “Do you know the sun god?”
“Of course. You call him Ari, but we call him Svi. The Svistra and the humans share many gods.”
“Because we were once a single race?”
Jaden tilted his head. “Have you heard the stories?”
“Some, but not many. There was a healer once who passed by the tavern from time to time. Most thought he was mad.”
“But you didn’t?”
She shrugged and rose up on her arms.
“Stay.”
A wave of nausea hit her, and she altered the movement from sitting up to rolling over in case she was sick.
Immediately, Jaden’s strong arms cradled her upper body. Part of her wondered how he’d gotten there so fast. The other part was thankful he had. She avoided looking at him but his scent surrounded her. Almost like the woods after a rainstorm, but spicy with a hint of musk. He smells like a man should. Where had that thought come from?
“You were not strong to begin with, and the forest took much which remained. Lay still, or you will become very ill.”
Selia waited for the nausea to pass. “What did that forest do to me?”
“It was…. digesting you in the way of its kind. Eventually it would have absorbed you into itself.”
She swallowed the saliva filling her mouth. That’s why she felt she’d been chewed up and spit out. She almost had been. Another wave of nausea hit and when it too passed, Jaden held the cup to her mouth again.
This time she didn’t hesitate to drink. Whatever it was, it had helped with the nausea. “You know a lot about the White Forest.”
“It isn’t unique. It’s only the one farthest south.” He eased her back. The stars winked through the branches above her and his arm remained under her upper back, warming her skin even through her clothing.
She was surprised by the desire to snuggle deeper in his arms, lay her head against his chest. He’s a Svistra. But the warning didn’t have the desired effect.
Jaden laid her head back on what she now recognized as a folded blanket and sat next to her.
“You called it a kind.” The skin his arm had touched now felt chilled without his warmth.
“And it is. I’ve heard humans say that it’s dead, jealous of the living, but it’s not. The White Forest is alive, and it’s not a forest but a single creature that feeds on the living.”
“How did you get through?”
“Svistra are familiar with these beings. There are many in the north where I grew up. Its greatest weapon is its allure and its victim’s ignorance. Once it has you, you don’t want to leave and even if you do, you grow confused and can’t escape.”
“And then…then…”
“Yes, it consumes you.” He smiled. “Humans are shocked by the natural order of things. After being the hunter for so long, you’ve forgotten you can as easily be the prey. Is the rabbit stunned to hear one of its own is now stewing in your pot? Just because you’re human doesn’t mean you can’t be quarry for another intelligent hunter.”
“Like you?”
Jaden stared into the fire then his golden gaze found hers. “Yes. Like me.”
“Why did you rescue me?”
He hesitated. “I need your help.”
“How could I possibly help you?”
“I think we can help each other. You see,” he tossed a stick into the fire, “a mutual friend has been kidnapped.”
“Oren.”
“Yes.”
“What do you care about Oren?”
“He’s my friend.”
The simplicity of his statement so echoed Oren’s words about Jaden. For a moment, Selia was speechless. The image of Oren tied to a horse, blood trailing down his face, crossed her mind. A surge of anger woke her tongue. “Where were you when they took him? It didn’t matter to you then.”
A shadow passed over the Svistra’s face. “I regret I was not there to help him. I’ve thought about it often, and I think I would have attempted to aid him, though it might have meant my death and possibly his.”
“You think?”
“It wouldn’t have been the smartest move to attack an entire company of soldiers without a weapon of any kind.”
“Then where were you?”
“I was tending to other matters.”
“You were supposed to be too weak to move!” Her voice rose.
“I never told you that. You assumed it.”
Selia clamped her jaw shut, staring at Jaden’s profile. “What matters were more important than Oren?”
His golden gaze rested on her for a moment, before returning to the flames. “You.”
She opened her mouth then shut it.
“You are weak and this is upsetting you. I will—”
“It was you.”
Jaden didn’t turn.
“On the way to town, I thought there was someone in the forest watching me. It was you.”
He nodded once.
“Why?”
“Svistra have scouted the area for the better part of a year. They have orders to kill only when necessary, but you, alone…I didn’t want to risk it.”
He didn’t want to risk it? Svistra scouting the area? “I’ve traveled that road—”
“I’ve seen you.”
“But the soldiers?”
Jaden’s smile held no amusement. “A Svistra can walk circles around most of your soldiers, and they wouldn’t be aware he or she is there.”
“You tried to protect me?”
His gaze brushed hers again.
“Why?”
“I told you, it’s—”
“No, I don’t want to hear about your honor. I got it. I don’t…I’m tired.” Selia closed her eyes. She felt like crying and fought the feeling, but two hot tears escaped her closed lids to run down her cheeks and into the hair at her temples.
The air shifted with a soft rustle of leather. The weight of another blanket settled over her body. Selia ignored it. A few moments later she was asleep.
For a long time, Jaden sat staring down at the human woman, fighting the urge to wipe away the tear tracks glistening in the firelight. She still didn’t trust him. Couldn’t she understand that for him it was simple? Oren had befriended him. Oren was now in trouble. But then, he was Svistra, and humans knew the Svistra were without a soul, or mercy.
Her eyelids fluttered. Was she dreaming? What did a human woman dream of? Perhaps the situation wasn’t as simple as he’d like to believe. His primary concern, now that Selia was safe, was Oren. And he did need Selia’s help. He could get to Eagle Rock without detection. He could probably even make it through the fortress’s defenses and find Oren. But getting him out and away? For that, he’d have to pass as human, and no Svistra could do that for long.
He looked away
from the human woman. The stars shone brightly through the swaying dark boughs of the trees. It would storm soon. Though gentle, the northern wind blew acrid and fertile, the promise of moisture in its breath.
It amazed him how a reasonably intelligent race could be so dim-witted. One only had to spend a moment with Oren to know he’d make a poor warrior. It wasn’t that his mind was simple; it had more to do with the size of his heart. It wasn’t Oren’s nature to fight. But then that was the way of humans. They didn’t take the time to study one another. They didn’t think, they reacted. He looked again at Selia and a smile curved one side of his mouth. She’d tried to go through the White Forest. How many humans would have done that? The smile bloomed. He had to admire her bravery, but it also scared him to death.
The first time he’d seen Selia and Oren, the scent of a wounded bobcat had drawn him, but he’d retreated when he’d smelled, then heard, a human approach. Oren’s reaction to the wounded animal surprised him. In his experience, humans didn’t like other predators, and even though it was weak and helpless, the bobcat was a full-grown hunter. But Oren hadn’t killed it. He’d laid brush over the animal and ran back the way he’d come. Jaden stayed out of curiosity. Soon, Oren returned with a woman—Selia. He thought the woman would scold the man but she hadn’t. She helped him make a travois and together, they carried the weak but still spitting bobcat toward their dwelling. It was unusual behavior for humans, and for Svistra for that matter. He’d been about to put the animal out of its misery.
For several days, he lingered around the barn until one night a much-bandaged Oren released a very angry, but mended bobcat back into the wild.
He stirred the fire. Ironic. Months later, those same hands would bandage him. Oren was one of the few truly gentle humans he’d known. Though Selia wore a tougher skin, she’d brought him into the barn when she could have left him to die. He feared for her. What was to come would not be easy, and those who dared to care would be hurt the most.
He reached for an arrow in his pack and held it to the fire light, studying the sharp tip. Handmade, and well done. The arrow had only just missed him. Before the last band of Svistra found him, he’d trailed Selia a few times on her way to town and back—mostly to see if her journey would lure a Svistra into the open. He wanted to see which tribes were involved. He’d kept his distance and stayed downwind until that last trip.
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