by Inez Kelley
“He was retreating.” Batu’s voice dipped deep, carrying regal authority and human sadness. “You should have backed down, Darach. It was wrong.”
His chin lifted in bruised pride. “His axe would have killed you, despite his age.”
“It was wrong!” Pushing to his feet, the Crowned Prince glared at him. “When someone retreats, you let them go, to hopefully learn from their mistakes. He was still young, he could have learned better. His actions were a crime but he didn’t deserve to be chased down like a rabbit.”
“Should I have stood by and let you both die?”
“Once he dropped the axe, there was no more danger. Look, it’s done.” Batu raked his fingers through his dark, wet hair. “We have to take them back to the inn, pay for someone to see to their remains.”
“No.” Darach shook his head. “You’re hurt.”
Jana slapped both hands on his chest, shoving him. “We can’t leave them here for the wolves. We aren’t animals.”
Her accusation hung unsaid. “Jana, I am not an animal.”
“You aren’t a man either.” A hollow echo robbed her tone of emotion. “That’s the difference between humans and animals. Compassion and intelligence, not blind impulse. A good man shows mercy even when evil is done to him. Argot would have.”
Argot was dead and still she measured them and found Darach lacking. He had more magic than she could dream of but he wasn’t what Jana wanted. He was a spell, a tool to be used and then forgotten. The longing to be more tightened his chest.
She swept past him with her chin held high, angling her shoulders to avoid brushing his cloak. Kneeling beside the body, she closed her eyes and whispered words that cocked his head in confusion. She prayed for the boy to find peace, to forgive them. Them. She lumped herself and Batu in the same group, although Darach had acted alone. They all bore the guilt of his actions.
Batu murmured a final word, then took Jana in his arms and led her back to the horses, whispering things Darach chose not to hear. His eyes were locked on her trembling fingers gripping the prince’s mantle. The taste of her kiss was gone from Darach’s lips but he licked out, trying to recapture that elusive heat, that peppery burst of connection. It wasn’t there. Strange that the lack of something could inflict such a deep ache in his chest.
* * *
Jana could barely keep her eyes open. She blinked several times and the firelight blurred. Her father’s training cabin was small but well built, keeping out the wind and spitting ice. Dry kindling in the wall notch gave her something to do as the men bedded the horses down. Everything hurt. She’d wiped as much blood away with snow as she could but the iron scent remained in her nose. She wondered idly if she’d ever not smell it again.
Stinging bits of snow swirled in the door as Batu limped in. “I thought I smelled smoke. Thank God, I’m frozen to the core.”
His face was tinged green. He draped his wet cloak along the chair back and collapsed nearest the fledgling fire. For one breath, he relaxed, exhaustion sapping all the stiffness from his frame. Then he steeled his jaw and eased his arm from the sling. A swift but nearly silent breath leached the color from his wind-chapped cheeks.
Jana scooted close, reaching for his boots. He tried to angle away but she sent him a censuring look. “In the old days, personal servants attended to every physical need of the royal family. You’re hurt. Let me play valet, okay?”
“I’m not too proud to say thank you. I feel like hell.”
She tugged his boot off, cringing when he hissed in pain. His leggings hid the bandage wrapped around his thigh but blood had seeped through both. She stayed quiet, bending her head and concentrating on pulling off the other boot.
The cabin, outfitted only for the warm seasons, held only a single fireplace. She dragged two pallets in front of the hearth. She dug blankets from a cedar chest, shook one out and wrapped it around his shoulders.
She jumped as the door flung open. Darach carried in a massive armload of cut wood. His earth-dark eyes fixed on her kneeling at Batu’s feet then darted away. Jana turned her head, concentrating on the mortar between the hearthstones. She heard rather than saw him stack the split logs in the niche. For three tension-strung heartbeats, his gaze dug into her spine. Then he wordlessly left the cabin.
“You’re being too hard on him,” Batu murmured.
“Not as hard as he was on that young man.”
“He made a mistake, Jana. Stop judging him against Argot.”
“I’m not.” Indignation flushed her face but she couldn’t force herself to face him.
“Aren’t you? Argot didn’t have to learn how to be a man, he grew into it. Darach has only been in this world a few days. Give him a chance to grow.”
Salt stung her eyes as they closed, hiding her turmoil behind tightly pinched lids. There was no reason for Darach to grow. He had no desire to learn about humans or to become a man. Bits of bone and ash, mystical words and a daunting task was the sum of his existence in this world. Whether they failed or succeeded, he would return to his realm, his paradise.
Boot steps sounded on the wooden porch so she held her tongue. Sharp wind, icy cold, and the scent of wet copper permeated the cabin as he stacked more wood in the niche. Snow melted on his hair, turning the rich sable to mink. He added two small logs to the blaze, poked at it, then fixed his eyes on the flames.
“I learn things of this world by watching, mimicking, interpreting. I can use my eyes and ears while in this form or my magic while resting in Jana’s pendant. Only once have I seen a man protect his friends. I reacted in a similar manner but too harshly.” Hushed by understanding, his voice rasped. “There’s so much I don’t know but I...I made a mistake. Had I the magic to reset time, I would. I’m sorry.”
The simple sincerity in his timbre made her chin tremble. Batu caught her look and gave a slight nod, a gentle push for her to respond. She laid her palm along Darach’s arm.
“Many men never learn how to say they’re sorry but that was very nobly done.”
He brushed his fingers along the back of her hand.
A noisy yawn widened Batu’s mouth. “Who’d you see protect his friends?”
“Warric.” Darach added a bit of wood shavings to the small fire. “He cast magic then punched...someone in Jana’s time-dance vision.”
Batu groaned. “Great. He’s a wonderful influence to follow. If you take a mind to get drunk and chase barmaids, let me know, all right?”
Confusion angled Darach’s head. “Why would I wish to—”
“He’s teasing,” Jana explained with a censuring look at the prince.
Batu chuckled. “Sorry. I’m so tired I’m getting stupid. Look, if you ever have questions about anything, just ask me, okay?”
Darach had not stopped stroking her hand, his fingertips tracing the tiny bones of her wrist in a lazy pattern. Tingles shot up her arm that had nothing to do with the chill outside. He licked his lips while looking at her mouth. “There is something I wish to know, Your Highness.”
Jana bristled. Surely, he wasn’t going to ask Batu about that impulsive kiss, was he? She couldn’t even explain why she’d done it. He’d simply stunned her, woken her grief-numbed mind with an act so compassionate, it ached. She yanked her hand from his arm.
“Stop calling me that.” Batu stretched his injured leg with a groan. “Just ask.”
“What do the terms whore, bastard and bugger my ass mean?”
Jana stilled. Sympathy and disgust knotted her belly. “Oh no, not that little boy.”
“Yes.” Darach nodded. “He claimed to be a bastard of a whore and mistook my coin for payment to bugger his ass. What does this mean?”
Batu’s jaw went white. He jammed his unlaced boots back on his feet, grabbed his wet cloak and thrust awkwardly to a stand. He grabbed Darach’s arm, shoving him toward the doorway. “Jana, stay and tend to the fire. I’ll explain the birds and the bees to our bear in the barn.”
The door slammed behind them. Jana rubbed her
temples. She didn’t envy Batu’s conversation plans. But she was grateful for a few minutes of privacy. The bedchambers showed her breath but contained a chamber pot. She hurried through her business then left her belt dangling, dropping it on the tabletop. A fast glance out the window showed no movement from the barn so she toed off her boots and stripped off her wet leggings. The stained tunic would be enough to sleep in. She wrapped the stale blanket around her and sat, watching the flames and wishing the chill would leave her bones.
Firelight flickered across her ring. A wry snort shook her head. She had terrible man sense. She’d thought she’d been in love with a gentleman but he turned out to be a lying bastard. Another man had loved her with an undemanding devotion, and yet she’d never known, despite seeing his face every day. She couldn’t trust her own heart to not lead her to destruction, how could she hope to save the crown?
Her hand rose to her necklace. Darach barely knew the rudimentary facets of human life but he knew instinct, magic and tracking. He would lead her in the right path to save Batu. She just had to keep reminding herself that he wasn’t a man even if the one taste of his mouth lingered in her blood like rich spiced wine.
The ground shook with a roar. Jana leaped up and ran to the window, using her tunic sleeve to wipe a circle in the fog. She’d read of times when the earth would shake and tremble but never felt one. It lasted less than a minute but even the empty branches quivered and snow fell in great sheets from the rooftop.
The barn door burst open. A plume of lavender shot straight from the door to the stone chimney and exploded into the cabin. Darach in his natural form speared into her necklace so hard the impact stung her chest. She gasped and wrapped her hand around it. It was hot and pulsed with raging emotion.
Limping footsteps warned her before the door opened and Batu ducked in.
“What happened?”
Batu avoided her eyes. “Did he say anything?”
“No, he returned to the necklace. What did you say to him?”
The fire snapped and sizzled as he brushed snow from his mantle into the blaze. He draped it over a chair then settled into another, his solemn gaze studying the dancing fire for a long stretch of tense time. He avoided looking at her while pulling his boots off unassisted.
“I told him a bit about loving, the mechanics mostly, then I answered some questions. He had a lot and I’m afraid not many of my answers were pleasant.”
“It’s strange,” she murmured, lowering back to her pallet. “He’s so fierce, deadly as we saw, but in some ways, he’s completely innocent.”
“Tread gently, Jana.” Batu’s grace and dignity carried softly on a soothing voice. “In only a few days, he’s seen treachery, lies, murder, thievery and cruelty to children. I’ve never seen anyone so angry. To him, you are all that is good in humanity.”
Behind her ribs, something twanged with pain. Darach had taught her so much, opened doors she’d never known existed. He made her feel in ways that were foreign yet felt right. Thinking of his leaving was like imagining the rain turning to milk.
Silence stretched like a waking man. Pops and cracks filled the room. Batu cleared his throat. “He very much liked his first kiss, by the way.”
The rest of her body was covered in gooseflesh but her cheeks warmed at his tease. “And they say women gossip.”
“Jana, I’m not your father. You’re an adult and what you do is your business but if—”
“Stop. Do not finish that sentence. He’s not human and he’s not staying.”
He pursed his lips but stayed silent. Every muscle ached, her eyes felt gritty with the need for rest.
“I was conceived before my mother became human.”
Her head snapped up at Batu’s low whisper. “That’s impossible.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I can count, I know the dates. Even better, she told me. It wasn’t that Mama couldn’t conceive as a spell, but that she couldn’t carry a child. They—the spells—they have to revert to their natural form to replenish their magic or they die. Any child created would have been lost then.”
He looked at her with a warning set to his chin. “Men are different, Jana. They don’t carry the child, only plant the seed.”
She and Batu had always been close but this conversation verged on embarrassing. “There isn’t anything for you to worry about.”
His brows rose but he said nothing. The howl of the wind was the only sound. Batu lowered his body to a pallet with a muffled moan. Jana drew the blanket to her nose, her fingers clutching the necklace beneath the wool. As long as their journey had been, as fraught with tensions and dangers, they should have dropped to sleep immediately but each lay awake, staring into the ceiling for over an hour.
“Want to know a secret?”
“Of course.” Jana laughed softly and rolled to face him. They’d always begun each heart-to-heart the same way.
He shifted, his grin spreading. “I planted a seed.” She raised her brows in question and he chuckled. “Feena carries. I felt it. I felt the instant the child was made.”
“A baby?”
“A little girl.” He rested his good arm along his forehead. “Segur men know, thanks to the heartmate bonds. Papa said he knew with me, but not with Warric. Maybe it’s only the firstborn, I don’t know, but I felt this. I haven’t told a soul, except Feena, of course. I’m going to be a father.”
The awe in his words softened her smile. She was happy for him and her sister, but too many unknowns circled around them. Would he live to see his child born? She banked her worries like a fire, holding the heat of them inside herself. It was a flame that burned her cold.
Chapter Seven
His head was going to explode. Warric rubbed his neck while crossing the entry foyer. At the echoing shout of his name, he closed his eyes. Damn, did his father always have to pick the minute he walked in the castle to summon him? He turned and went down the short hall.
“You wanted me, Papa?”
King Taric tossed the quill onto the desktop. “Where have you been?”
Warric puckered his lips. “I don’t think you really want to know that.”
“Guess again,” the king corrected. “Didn’t you notice the gates are closed? The doubled guards on the wall?”
Impressions he’d brushed off bombarded him. He’d had to summon a guard to open the wicket because the portcullis was lowered and the heavy oak gates had also been closed tight. The bailey yard was near empty, something that never occurred this time of morning. Dread choked him. “What happened?”
“Argot’s dead. Batu and Feena got married and Bryton claimed High Captain’s Right.”
Warric’s eyes went wide. “What?”
His father held his hand up. “Bryton sent Batu away. Darach and Jana are with him.”
“Darach? Who’s that?”
The king rubbed his forehead as if pained. “Your mother summoned a spell for Jana, a guide to help her become a Time Dancer.”
“A Time Dancer?” Warric’s jaw dropped. “They’re real?”
“Apparently, although rare.”
Warric shifted, the charcoal painting on his butt seeming to pulse. “He’s a bear shifter, right?”
“Grizzly, yes. Darach is very strong, very brave. He stepped in to guard Batu when Argot fell, so Batu took him along as a temporary captain, but he refused to leave Jana behind.”
“Where’d they go?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Warric recoiled and King Taric softened his look. “For both your protection. Batu’s safe, or as safe as he can be for now.”
“They got married already? Why?”
“She’s now his heir by marriage.”
Warric clasped his hands together and looked up. “Thank you, God, for sparing me that torture.”
King Taric frowned. “Feena was taken somewhere safe. Where, I don’t even know. I want to assign you a guard.”
“No, Papa,” Warric groaned. He was not about to be saddled with a shado
w. That was one of the perks of not being the heir, freedom to come and go without having to report his every breath. He sank into one of the flanking chairs across from his father’s desk. “I don’t need a guard.” He formed a bright ball of fire and held it in his palm. “I’m more dangerous than any sword anyway.”
“Put that away before you singe the carpets again.”
A hiss sounded as he closed his fist.
The king laced his fingers together and fixed a hard glower at him. Despite his age, Warric fought not to squirm under that look. “I don’t want you to return to school unguarded.”
“Actually, I think I’ll just stay home.” Massaging the muscles at the base of his skull, he lied with complete calm. “I couldn’t concentrate on my studies with Batu in danger.”
“All right. Now, where have you been?”
“In bed...not alone. Good enough?”
“No.” The king leaned back, fully expecting complete obedience. “Who?”
“Sorry, Papa. I don’t kiss and tell.” He allowed his lip to curl arrogantly and thumped his chest with a finger. “Don’t worry. Built-in bastard control, remember? No little royal surprises from me.”
“Enough with the attitude.” Authority firmed the king’s shoulders. He snapped forward, jabbing his finger at the blotter on his desk. “I want to know now. Do you have a bondmate?”
“No. Want me to strip and show you my chest?”
His father exhaled noisily. “Do you have to be contrary? It’s vital to protect your heartmate if you have one.”
“I don’t have a heartmate. Besides, I’m off the hook. Feena’s Batu’s heir now.”
King Taric sighed. “By law, yes, but without a blood child, that’ll always be in question for some. Blood is a stronger link than a secret marriage. I need to know that, if the worst happens, you’re prepared to fulfill your duty. More than that, you’re my son and I don’t want anything to happen to someone you care about.”
His duty. He never wanted any duty but to practice his magic. Could he tell his father that he feared there was something seriously wrong with him? That no healer could help with the headaches that came more and more frequently? That he had no idea what he did when he blacked out? What kind of king could he be if he had no idea if he was losing his mind?
