Tamed by the Fire

by Maxine Mansfield

  And his spiritmaster sensibility didn’t stop with just the troll, either. Even now, with his ex-fiancée surrounded by both Ten and Levin, he still wouldn’t put anything past Asla.

  The barbarian female with the short curly blond hair might succeed in looking innocent and pulling the wool over his cousin’s eyes, but not his. No, Zander had been the recipient of Asla’s poisonous personality, and he’d seen up close and personal just how far the woman would go to get what she wanted. Never again would he be stupid enough to trust her.

  He watched them spar, though, Ten, Levin, and Asla, while always keeping an eye on Kitrina, who was grappling with a klutzy-looking, little dwarf fellow.

  Zander smiled. The Limburger brothers really were quite good. For being so bulky and short, Ten was amazingly agile and fast, ducking and weaving, spinning and kicking. And while Levin couldn’t compete with Ten’s speed, he more than made up for his lack of quickness and finesse with his brute strength. The two brothers moved in tandem, first right, then left, back, then forth, and even though Asla didn’t have a prayer of a chance of actually defeating either one of them, she was certainly giving it her best shot.

  As for Katrina…now there was a fighter. Zander grinned as she swayed and jabbed, bobbed and sidestepped the dwarf, only to catch him off guard time after time and knock the man flat on his arse. God Draka, he was proud of that woman.

  Suddenly, she glanced in his direction, as if she somehow sensed he was there, and Zander slipped just a hair farther into the shadows and out of sight. Oh, yes, with the way things had been strained between them lately, the last thing he needed was for Kitrina to catch him spying on her.

  The dwarf surprised him by suddenly bowing out and backing away. Maycee the troll took his place facing Kitrina, and a trickle of apprehension skittered along Zander’s spine. Even Ten, Levin, and Asla paused in their match to watch. And not only did they pause, but so did Wally Titwilder and the entire rest of the class.

  Zander’s palms itched, his breathing hitched, and his heart pounded as Maycee ducked Kitrina’s first swing and landed a solid uppercut to her chin. Kit’s head snapped back, and for just a moment, her eyes glazed over. Somewhere in the distance thunder crashed, and it was all Zander could do to remain in hiding and not join the fray. This was not good.

  Back and forth, they sparred, fists flying, feet tripping, and eyes ever darting back and forth, watching, gauging, always on guard.

  Grudgingly, Zander admitted to himself that the two women were evenly matched. Though he didn’t want to be, he even found himself mildly in awe of Maycee’s skill.

  He and Kit had fought for fun a few times since they’d come to The Academy of Magical Arts, and he knew how very talented and sneaky a combatant the petite human female really was. There was no doubt about it; Leeky Shortz had taught Kit well, very well. And for Maycee the troll to be holding her own so easily against Kitrina right this moment meant only one thing. Someone, somewhere, at some time, had taught the VoT troll how to fight, too.

  But then Kitrina wasn’t having any real problem keeping pace with Maycee either. Her lithe body moved like that of a well-choreographed dancer as she pivoted, turned, lunged, and flipped the big troll right up and over her shoulder as if the green-skinned female weighed no more than a gnome.

  Before Zander could catch his next breath, Maycee lay flat on her back with Kitrina straddling her.

  That position didn’t last long, however. Kitrina offered Maycee a hand up, and the troll took it. They bowed to each other and then were at it again. Back and forth, they scuffled, neither gaining nor losing ground, nor giving an inch.

  He was so enjoying the match that, at first, Zander didn’t realize the danger present. But then his spiritmaster sensibility zinged. His head felt ready to explode with it, and his fingertips heated to the point of discomfort. Tiny sparks of lightning jumped back and forth between each digit, and a buzzing rang loudly in his ears.

  He couldn’t believe it. He’d let himself become so engrossed in the action that he’d completely missed the potential danger to Kitrina. He quickly scanned the room, every person’s face, every person’s body language, and every person’s proximity to her. From the corner of his eye, he saw it, the glint of steel, where the glint of steel shouldn’t have been.

  And not just steel, but a steel dagger. A dagger in the hand of the troll, Maycee.

  He rushed forward out of the shadows, horrified as Kitrina’s eyes found him and locked with his own. Maycee’s arm raised, and Zander prayed he’d reach Kit in time. He hoped desperately that the look of betrayal he saw in her eyes this very moment wouldn’t be her last impression of him.

  He wasn’t going to make it, though, and he knew it. His heart stopped dead in his chest as Maycee cocked her wrist a scant breath before Zander reached Kitrina.

  The troll flung her dagger. It flew right past Katrina’s right ear and his left, so close that the current of air it rode upon puffed at his hair as it continued its path across the room. He blinked once as he spun, then watched in amazement as the blade landed with a sickening thud directly between the wide open eyes of the very startled, klutzy little dwarf. The very same dwarf Kitrina had been sparring with only minutes ago.

  The dwarf’s own dagger fell from his raised hand and clattered to the floor no more than a moment before his body followed.

  Zander’s knees buckled with relief, and he hung his head in shame. Kitrina had been in a real and present danger, and all the while, he’d been hiding in the shadows and watching the wrong person. He’d been keeping his eyes trained on Maycee, doubting her reliability, her trustworthiness, when it should’ve been the dwarf he scrutinized.

  Someone—Zander had no clue who—ran out of the room and brought Leeky back with him, and it was the gnome who confirmed what everyone else who was privy to the situation and the quest suspected.

  Leeky searched the dwarf’s body, flipping it back and forth, going over every inch before finally lifting the hair away from the nape of its neck. He gasped as he pointed to a small tattoo of a capital K in faded black ink.

  “What the turquoise tramp stamp above the hiney-hole of a street-walking ogre temptress with a preference for dark elf meat do ya make of that, lads and lasses? See that there mark?” He lifted his own tuffs of graying hair out of the way to reveal another tattoo identical to it. “I’d forgotten all about these. I knew the commanders on our side each had an identifying mark like this in case of death during battle, but I didn’t know the other side used the same strategy. That K’s for Castle Kuropkat. Makes sense, though. No doubt about it, that dwarf’s Commander Wizzit, for sure.”

  He turned toward Kitrina and grinned. “Two down, one ta go, lass.”

  Zander lowered his head in shame. In the end, it had taken a troll he didn’t trust, a troll he didn’t even like, and a troll that, if he were being honest with himself, he had to admit, he was more than a little jealous of to do what he should’ve done himself.

  He would never live this down. It had taken Maycee of all people to succeed in protecting Kitrina where he himself had failed. It was a very bitter pill to swallow.

  What was even worse, though, was the realization that his spiritmaster sensibility had somehow failed him. Well, perhaps not totally failed him. After all, there had been a danger present.

  Zander shook his head. Something about his spiritmaster abilities was definitely off kilter lately, and he didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to trust Maycee or because he cared so much more for Kitrina than he had the right to. Whatever the reason, it stung to realize he could no longer completely trust a skill he’d honed and counted on his entire life.

  If that wasn’t bad enough and if he really was right about the intensity of the fire, rage, and betrayal he saw gleaming in Kitrina’s eyes right this moment, he wasn’t going to easily get away with being worried for her safety as a valid excuse for spying on her, either. At least, not without a whole lot of groveling.

  Za
nder hated groveling.

  ****

  “Oh, for God Draka’s sake.” Kitrina sighed. “Give it a rest, will you? Maycee hasn’t done anything to warrant this level of distrust. At least not yet.” She closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck, trying unsuccessfully to alleviate the tight knots of tension her muscles had formed.

  It had been more than a complete rotation of the second moon since the killing of the dwarf commander, Wizzit, and during that entire time, Maycee hadn’t done a single thing anyone could consider even remotely suspicious. Unless, of course, being practically stuck up Kitrina’s ass every waking moment of every VoT day could be deemed suspicious.

  As a matter of fact, considering what Maycee had done with her dagger toss, Zander Hammerstrike should’ve been heralding her as a hero instead of ranting like a lunatic...again.

  Kitrina shook her head. Why couldn’t she get the hard-headed barbarian to listen to reason just once without a fight?

  “I can’t afford to give it a rest, Kit, and neither can you,” Zander roared. “What if you’re wrong about her? She’s a troll, for God Draka’s sake. And we both know that a female troll commander is the only threat left. So what if she’s not actually Marquart? Perhaps she’s in cahoots with her? After all, you can’t dismiss the fact that at the end of the day, she is and will always be a troll.”

  Kitrina forced a smile. “Well, Wally’s a troll. Do you think he’s in cahoots with Marquart, too?” She held up her hands when he glared at her. “Just kidding. Sheesh, lighten up, will you?”

  Zander didn’t smile back.

  He paced the space of their room like a caged animal, and she wished he would just sit down for the time it would take a handful of sand to trickle through the hourglass and listen.

  He’d been sullen for weeks, to the point they rarely spoke or even touched, except at night, in the dark, and then without words, and hurried as if they were both afraid it would be their last chance.

  What was wrong with him?

  No matter how many times and in however many different ways she asked, she always got the same response back. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

  She sighed. As if the space between them wasn’t wide enough, this new unwarranted outburst certainly didn’t help matters. It only added to her frustration. She was so sick of fighting.

  He didn’t sit as she’d asked, though. He just kept pacing back and forth and yelling. “I get that Maycee is like some kind of hero to you now. After all, it was Maycee who saved your ass where I failed. It was Maycee’s dagger who took the dwarf commander’s life and prevented him from taking yours.” He held up a hand. “And before you say anything, I agree, I shouldn’t have even been there watching you from the shadows in the first place—”

  “Spying on me,” she interjected.

  Zander shook his head. “Whatever. What’s important is that I shouldn’t have allowed myself to become distracted, and I swore to you then and there it wouldn’t happen again. But too much is riding on the outcome of this little venture you’re proposing to suggest leaving behind the one person you know without a doubt has your back in favor of that…that…troll and…and…my ex-fiancée of all people.”

  It was her turn to pace. “You can’t come. You make them nervous, Zander. VoT, you make me nervous. You scowl and grumble and bluster at anyone anywhere near you, and…and…lately you’re almost unbearable to live with.”

  She stopped directly before him and locked her gaze with his, daring him to look away. “This…trip was set up to be a just-us-girls kind of outing, but if you insist, I’ll take Ten and Levin along. Asla certainly seems to like them well enough lately, and they don’t get on Maycee’s nerves…often.”

  He looked as if he was still going to argue, and Kitrina stomped her foot. “It’s just a frigging day trip to the central library on the Isle of Shak-spere, for VoT’s sake. You know as well as I do, if there’s any proof the Dragon Heart Opal and the Stone of Anthion are not one and the same, it will be found where the majority of human history is stored. I’d really like to prevent more bloodshed before it happens if possible.”

  “A day trip, that’s what you call it?” he shouted. “The Isle of Shak-spere is on the other side of the world, Kitrina.”

  She took three deep breaths and blew them out slowly. “Zander, you gave me the lead in this quest, remember? Stop being so melodramatic and let me do my job. It’s nothing more than the matter of stepping through one portal and back out another and we both know it.”

  She cupped his chin and forced him to look at her. “I don’t know for sure if Maycee is or isn’t Marquart or at the very least working for her. Do you? I mean, it’s not as if we can hold her down and shave her head to look for a tattooed K, can we?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then,” she whispered. “There’s no other way we’re ever going to find out for sure before Yulemass is upon us in just a couple of weeks and our families are close enough to be put at risk unless I make myself seem vulnerable to her. You have to trust me in this and let me do my job.”

  He started to speak, but Kitrina placed a finger gently against his lips. “I’ll be careful, I promise, and I’ll be back before the start of hand-to-hand combat class tomorrow morning, proof or no, I swear.”

  She stroked his cheek. “Wasn’t it you who first told me to keep my friends close and my enemies even closer?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, that’s exactly what I plan to do until I’m certain if Maycee is friend or foe.”

  ****

  “What the rosy red rash on the bare backside of a nose-dripping, sweat-covered, eyes-itching, buck-nakey dwarf with a head cold attempting a blowjob on an unsuspecting dark elf passerby for two platt and change is wrong with ya, lad? Ya let her go where and with who?”

  Zander glared at Leeky. “Do you realize the length of your ‘what the’s’ are directly proportional to your level of agitation?”

  The gnome balled up his lime-green gloved go-to-meeting-clad fists and shook them in the air. “I’ll show ya a ‘what the’ right in the kisser and don’t ya be thinking for the time it takes a single grain of sand ta slide through the hourglass, I won’t. I might not be immortal anymore, but I’m not afraid ta take on the likes of a wet-behind-the-ears, pecker-headed barbarian like ya.”

  Zander backed up a step and held up his hands. “It was just an observation, Uncle Leeky. Kitrina went to the human history library with Maycee and Asla. She took Ten and Levin along with her. She’ll be back by morning.”

  The gnome’s entire face turned a bright red, contrasting garishly with his lime green gloves. “It’s not the where she went that bothers me and ya know it. It’s the who she went with. What the…the…ahh, VoT, now see what ya’ve done ta me, I can’t even talk right. What were ya thinking sending our lass off with that…that troll?”

  Zander felt the first genuine smile he’d had for days grace his lips as Leeky quickly glanced toward Wally who sat cross-legged on the floor across the room, right in front of Talon and between Graydon and Gareth.

  The gnome gulped. “No offense meant taward trolls, of course, nephew. Some of my favorite people happen ta be trolls.”

  Wally simply shrugged.

  Talon didn’t remain silent like the others, though. “I’m afraid I have to agree with Leeky on this one, my friend. What were you thinking?”

  Zander sighed. “As Kitrina so very eloquently pointed out to me just this morning, I did hand over the reins of this quest to her, and at some point, we’re all going to have to trust her judgment. She’s quick, she’s smart, and ultimately, it’s her neck in jeopardy if she fails. We need to at least give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  Leeky puffed out his chest. “Well, I did teach her everything she knows, and she’s a VoT fine rogue even if I say so myself. Guess it wouldn’t hurt ta give the lass a little leeway.” He pointed a finger straight at Zander. “But what the strings of rancid reindeer sausage stuck betwixt the buckteeth of a
bohemian barbarian bystander during a dwarf dandy potluck do ya think will happen ta ya if Uthiel Stoutheart’s little girl gets so much as a hangnail?”

  No one was smiling now.

  “Meeting adjourned” was all Zander had to say on that subject.

  Chapter Ten

  Kitrina read the passage before her, then reread it once again. Though probably not useful for her needs, it was beautiful, and it made her feel as if she really were a part of something very special.

  The Dragon Heart Opal:

  Hark unto thee both far and wide. A pact has been made, a trust to confide. For dragon hearts are pure as gold. And paladin hearts beat both worthy and bold. They’ve formed a bond, they’ve given a token. A promise in gemstone, never to be broken. An opal of brilliance, an opal of trust. Worn by one whose soul is found just.

  Tears stung her eyes. Was her soul even close to being just? Was she truly worthy to wear the Dragon Heart Opal? Probably not. She was simply a female, after all, and by human law, wasn’t even allowed to become a paladin. Did it really matter? Even though the original presentation of the gemstone had been to the chosen leader of the Paladins of Albrath, the stone moved from heir to heir, regardless of what kind or gender of soul inhabited the body.

  Kitrina shuddered. Not that it had ever been worn by anyone evil, for it hadn’t. She knew without a doubt that every single recipient of the Dragon Heart Opal had been a good and just paladin and had passed the stone down to their good and just sons.

  Uthiel Dragonheart, however, had been the first of the long line of leaders of the Paladins of Albrath not to have a son to pass the stone down to. So, around the neck of his eldest daughter the gleaming treasure laid. Could a female be worthy to wear the treasure in truth, even if she could never become a paladin?

  Kitrina knew in the recesses of her soul she would just as quickly lay down her life to protect the dragons that’d brought magic to Albrath as any man would. And though it didn’t count because she was female, she’d even sworn the blood oath before Obsidian, her very own dragon, when she’d been but six summers old.