by Val Roberts
He nodded, accepting, not really even paying attention because he was off to his next topic. “This ... rift with your sister.” He folded his arms, elbows on the table. “Why is it so serious?"
Talyn blinked at him, not quite able to believe that he'd asked the question. “You don't need to know that,” she got out while she tried to calm her racing pulse with a sip of maidwort. “Suffice it to say she has interfered with my plans for the last time."
"And what plans has she interfered with in the past?” The same watchful look as before. Talyn squirmed, grateful he hadn't changed his eyes back to the yellow slit-pupil version.
"Lots of them,” she forced out, not truly willing to reveal even that much. Taryn had always tried too hard and had ended up besting her at everything—the musicale exhibitions, the schoolwork, even dressage and flower-arranging, for goddess's sake. How was she supposed to explain to an offworlder, who probably had been hatched from a vat, what it was like to be the second-best of identical twins?
"What if you could be sure she would never do so again, even without killing her?” He scratched at a dried spill on the wood. “Would that be enough to break the vendetta?"
Talyn almost snorted. Nothing would be enough to keep Taryn from interfering, because it seemed to come as naturally to her as breathing. “She would have to be on another planet for that to happen."
He stopped toying with crumbs and looked at her almost sideways, through lowered eyelids and lashes too long to belong to someone male. But the look was intense. “That could be arranged, I suppose.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Or you could be on another planet."
Talyn leaned back and studied him for a moment, picking up a slice of pear and sucking the juice off its flesh before eating it. He stared, eyes still intense, without even blinking while she ate two more. “It would be difficult to keep Timarron in line from another world, don't you think?"
The intensity faded from his eyes. “Not really,” he said, sounding somehow disappointed.
This time she did allow herself to snort. “Oh, and you have experience with the ruling of multiple planets?” He smiled again, that same slow, predatory display of teeth she'd seen the night before, just before he ripped her clothes away. Only this time there was no accompanying heat in his eyes, and the extended claws of one hand dug furrows into the ironwood tabletop. She looked at his hand, then at his face, and wondered exactly who Sharif Mustafan Tanaka was outside the sheltered borders of Zona. Was it possible she'd just insulted someone with far more power than she had ever dreamed existed?
"Do you care about anything but power?” he asked, almost as if he could read her mind.
"Of course I do.” There was also revenge. And pleasure.
He leaned forward and set the points of those talons on her wrist again. “Exactly what?” She tried to pull away and felt him clamp fingers around her arm, keeping her right where she was as her pulse thundered in her ears. He really could hurt her, and no one was close enough to make him stop in time.
"What do you want from me?” she asked in a strangled whisper. It was all the voice she could come up with through the mixture of fear and want that suddenly flooded her.
"When I decide, I'll let you know.” He threw her wrist aside and flowed up from his seat, pausing only to toss a handful of golden squares on the table before he stalked out of the teahouse, for all the world like a predator seeking something to kill and not because he was hungry.
Talyn looked at the table and swallowed, then noticed he'd left enough gold coins to pay the waitress's wages for a month. She glanced up at the door, but he was already gone, leaving her with her sore muscles and a nagging idea that she should be far more worried about him than about her sister.
* * * *
They had just remounted after a quick lunch from the saddlebags, the Bariani forming up around Taryn and their leader, when Galen, on her left, twisted around in his saddle, then turned and twisted around the other way to look behind them.
"Hang on a minute,” he said, and the guards on point came to a stop. He walked his horse around to face the other direction and studied the mountains. “I've been here before."
"What?” Taryn asked, stomping on the sarcastic retort with both feet. “We're in Zona. You can't have been here unless you've crossed the border."
Galen looked back at her. “Not right here, but within thirty kliks, right on the other side of the border.” He walked his horse back. “We're about three or four hours from Broken Pine Pass."
"Which makes it about six hours from the cave by horse,” Blade finished for him. “It would be a good place to camp tonight, since we've got wounded.” He glanced around. “Think you can find the trail to Broken Pine?"
Galen twisted to look behind him again, then came back around and squinted at the trail. “I'd bet money this will take us right to it. Why else would it be here?"
Maris moaned softly. “Then let's get moving,” Blade said, sounding grim.
It was less than three hours later when they came to a saddle between two hills with a tall pine tree growing on one of the slopes that had been hit by lightning at some point in the past. About twenty feet above its base, the crown tilted at a crazy angle.
"You're a master, Galen,” Blade said, and he sounded relieved. “Broken Pine Pass, just like you ordered."
Taryn straightened in her saddle, because this was the border. This was where she stopped, except for one little problem. There were six trained fighting men surrounding her who thought she was going to cross it with them. While that wouldn't normally be a problem, she had a feeling Blade wasn't going to take no for an answer. She wasn't sure she could tell him no again, anyway.
Blade clucked to the big gelding and it started to trot, followed a moment later by the rest of the riders. Even Juvenan, who had been riding at the last of the group, passed her. Then her horse started to trot on its own.
Taryn pulled the reins a little and the mare slowed to a walk, though she didn't like being left behind. Taryn patted her neck to reassure the horse while the Barianis trotted ahead. The horse kept walking, but slowed more, and the gap between her and the other horses widened more.
The ground was almost level, which meant the border between Zona and Barian was right here under her feet, the invisible line where upgrade changed to downgrade and homeland changed to foreign soil. Taryn reined in a little more and listened to the hoofbeats fade when the mare came to a stop. One of the Barianis faded to the back of the group the same way she had, then pulled his horse to a dead stop and wheeled it around. Even at this distance, she knew it was Blade, and his expression was as dark as a thundercloud, his eyes the lightning.
He jabbed heels into the gelding's ribs and it jumped to a gallop, making the gold-brown hair stream out behind him in a glorious image of gallantry, strong and very, very determined. Taryn turned her own horse and made for a bend in the trail with as much speed as she could. If she could make it back to where the hills leveled out a bit, which was doubtful, she might be able to go off the trail and elude him.
He came up on her right, then leaned out and caught her bridle in a long-fingered hand and pulled the mare to a stop along with his own mount. She was almost knee to knee with him.
"I told you I would get you back to Barian,” she forced herself to say evenly. “I never said I would go with you.” She lifted her chin and tried to bolster her courage to face those eyes that saw so much. “My responsibility for your lot ends either when I drop you off at the palace or at the border, and this is the border."
"I never said I would allow you to stay in Zona,” he responded in absolute calm. “And I won't allow you to stay, because right now someone very high up in the Zonan government wants your head on a platter. They only way I can protect you from that is to get you out of the country and to a Sanctuary truthtester.” He let go of the mare's bridle and put his hand on her thigh. “Even Prince Talyn can't ignore that."
"I don't need your help.�
� Taryn tried to brush his touch away, but though his hand was relaxed, the wrist and arm attached to it were clenched. “The truth is that I killed the Crown Prince's Prime, and that won't help me.” He moved the gelding one step, then two, and they were almost nose to nose. “I'm not running from my duty and I want some answers, even if I have to beat them out of very important people."
"And how will letting your sister kill you be helpful to performing your duty? You know as well as I do that a Silvergard ambush means you'll never get anywhere near very important people.” He sounded patient, almost like a teacher leading a student through the logic to an obvious conclusion. Taryn couldn't meet his eyes anymore.
"My honor demands it,” she said to her hands. Interesting. Her knuckles were white where she was holding the reins. She made an effort to relax them. The gelding stamped and Blade twisted in his saddle to frame her jaw in one hand, lifting her face to look at him.
"But does it demand it today? And does it demand that you do it in person and not through Bariani diplomatic channels?” He rubbed his thumb up over her cheek, grazing the bottom of her scar. “This is a lie if you go back to Balsom. How long have you used this as a touchstone for the truth, your truth? Are you prepared to abandon everything you are just to let your nutball sister have her way?” He leaned toward her and smiled faintly. “Is it a lie, Taryn?"
His words echoed through her head even as he went on. “Or are you Silvergard enough to see this fight through to the end?"
He leaned more, far enough to drag his lips lightly over the scar. Then he kissed the corner of her mouth with a gentle patience that only served to punctuate the power he held in check, not only over his world, but over her, too. Something in that kiss paralyzed her. She couldn't make herself move, couldn't make the horse move, couldn't even blink away his glowing eyes. She whimpered, torn between honor and the sudden need to stay with him.
He took it as his cue to kiss her more deeply, licking the seam of her lips and coaxing them apart. Then he thrust his tongue into her mouth and need won, pulling her eyes closed and stretching her arms so her hands could clutch his shoulders. Everything vanished but him. The taste of him, the scent of him, the subtle creak of saddle leather when he pulled her closer. One hand held her face captive and even though he wasn't wearing gloves in the cool weather, his skin was warm against hers. His other hand covered the cut, searing heat into the ache and obliterating it. If she hadn't been sitting on a horse, she might have wrapped her legs around him.
When he lifted his head she was out of breath and dazed. “It's time to go,” he said, his breathing also uneven, proving that if it had been a ploy it hadn't worked quite the way he'd intended. The saddle creaked as he pushed her back upright. He still didn't trust her, though, because he pulled the reins from where she'd forgotten she held them in her left hand and led the mare in a half circle until they were facing the pass again. He toed the gelding into a trot and the mare snorted when her reins tugged, but obediently kept pace.
Taryn held her breath as they clopped through the level stretch, held it until the land was definitely sloping down. She turned and looked back at the mundane scene, a saddle between two hills, patches of snow still in the shadowed places between the sparse trees that had invaded the rocky soil, punctuated by the broken pine. It was so strange, to be leaving Zona. To be turning her back on Zona. And there had been no bolt of lightning, no vengeful Goddess stopping her heart or exploding her head. Taryn swallowed and turned to face the choice she had made under a peculiar sort of duress.
The only feature that distinguished her future from her past was Galen, scowling over crossed arms on the unhappy roan with its ears back in the middle of the trail. “What have I told you about taking off like that?” he demanded when they were close enough to hear, and Taryn had a dizzying moment of déjà vu when Galen's voice in the present mixed with Leone's voice from the past.
Blade slowed the horses to a walk. “Are you talking to me or her?” he asked, and Taryn could hear the smile in his voice though she couldn't see his face.
Galen seemed to sit straighter in his saddle for a few seconds, the closest to startlement she had ever seen him. “I'm not sure,” he admitted, “but it goes for both of you. Do not leave the escort again. Is that clear?” It almost sounded like he'd left something off the end of that question, something like a title. Sweet Mother of All.
Blade looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
"He can't be talking to me,” she defended herself. “I'm just a disgraced ex-Silvergarder, not someone important."
Galen snorted then toed his horse into motion, steering the roan to her left. “Really. And if you take off, what is Blade going to do, my dear Vixen?"
"Go after her,” Blade said, sounding cheerful. “We have an appointment with Llamass, after all. How's Maris doing?"
"He'll be happy to get to the cave and some medical treatment,” Galen reported, “but he's being pretty stoic about it, unlike the time you broke his arm."
"I thought the bone laser went back to Westhollow when we left last month,” Blade said, not taking the bait.
Taryn sat up straighter in her saddle, which made the mare's ears twitch. “You were in the Jags a month ago?"
Blade glanced back at her. “I've spent seven of the last nine months in the Jags trying to get to the bottom of the Zonan border attacks."
If Taryn had held her own reins she would have stopped the mare.
"Zonans don't cross the border. We have no need of the outside world.” Even as she said it, though, she thought of other truisms that had proved false in her own life. Mothers did favor one child over another. Sisters were sometimes enemies. Comrades-in-arms could turn on you. Maybe there had been Zonan raids across the border, but for what purpose? She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that they hadn't been covert military activity.
"Unless you've had three utterly fecal harvests in a row and two colder than normal winters, you don't.” Blade sounded grim. “We caught a group of raiders red-handed. I killed two of them before I realized that they were so emaciated they could barely fight. What I took for teenage boys were women who had no body fat at all.” He glanced at her over his shoulder again. “That's when I started interviewing the places that had been hit. No women or children, no noncombatants had been killed, and only basic supplies had been taken. And nothing had been burned. They were raiding because that was their only option if they were going to survive. I just hope those two deaths didn't make any orphans."
His horse blew a warning and Galen looked around, searching for whatever threat the gelding had detected as Blade fell silent. The birds were still singing though, which meant that it wasn't a threat to humans.
"Did you contact the Matriarch?” Taryn asked, wondering how this could have been kept a secret. There was traffic between the mountain villages and Balsom, so surely Mother had known what was going on.
"No, I started making caches, because I knew Silean would be too stubborn to accept aid from Barian. Grain, preserved protein, root vegetables, warm clothing and basic fuel went into unguarded shacks on the edges of settlements nearest the border, along with a healthy stipend to keepers for any reports of withdrawals. That little feat made me an expert on Zona."
"Seven months in the Jags made you an expert?” She made no attempt to calm the outrage in her voice.
Blade only shrugged. “I lived like a Zonan, within limits, so my ... King Ramondar felt I had insight into the thought process. I was chosen to offer covert aid to Zona because I knew what people needed and how to get it to them without humiliating them.” He slowed his horse and offered her reins to her. “The border villages are doing pretty well now, but I'm worried about the interior. More has gone in than those villages need and I don't want people paying through the nose for what we're giving for free."
"We would never do such a thing."
He raised an eyebrow. “You're wearing Bariani clothes, Vixen. The hook and eye closure is a dead giveaway.” Her e
xpression as she stared down at herself must have given him what he was looking for, because he switched his gaze back to the trail. “I'm guessing it was a midwinter gift from Leone that someone used to pay their lodging bill."
This time she did stop her horse. “It was a solstice gift,” she said through numb lips. It explained so much. Why the clever closing that no one had thought of before. Why Leone had been so pleased when the pants and vest fit properly.
"It came from the Stormhaven cache. We color-coded the clothing so we'd be able to recognize it if it showed up in Balsom, and all the women's clothing in that store was black."
"Keep moving,” Galen said. Taryn nudged the mare back into motion, but she was too distracted to pay much attention to what the horse did as she chewed her lip and tried to make sense of what she had heard. Yes, official reports said harvests had been disappointing, and anyone who had stuck her head out of doors knew the winters had been colder than usual, but ... killing Bariani for food? Had things really gotten that bad? Could Mychell's strike against the negotiator have been designed to precipitate a war to hide the desperation? Barian covered half a continent, while Zona was tiny in comparison, making a war sheer insanity. Her head throbbed and she pinched the bridge of her nose to try to concentrate, but even worrying at the mystery for hours didn't make any more sense out of it.
Finally, they stopped in front of a dark rock face with a darker opening when the sun had already dropped behind the highest peaks and night was falling fast. Dorcan came out of the opening as Blade slid from his saddle. Taryn eyed the black hole with suspicion. It looked small. Dark. She could almost feel the tons of rock pressing down on her, and she wasn't even inside yet. She swallowed hard.
"Grigor's checking Maris through the medical unit,” Dorcan said. “The other guys are setting up camp.” He took Blade's horse and led it into the opening.
"Time to go into the mountain, Vixen.” She looked at Blade and watched his expression soften. “Galen, you go on ahead.” Galen, who had dismounted sometime during the exchange, led his horse into the cave. “It's okay, Taryn.” He took the few steps to her and reached to rub the small of her back. “It's big inside, and there's plenty of light. It's dry and warm and safe. And Maris needs you."
