by T. A. White
Eva stepped away from the mythological, her hand trailing along its shoulder before falling by her side.
She met Caden's gaze stubbornly. He held his ground for a long second as he weighed her, likely finding her wanting, Eva conceded with an internal snort.
He stepped aside, his gaze burning into the back of her head as she went down the hill first, Hardwick following.
"Make sure you post one of your people up here with him," Caden murmured to Fiona before Eva heard the distinctive sliding of rock and dirt that meant he'd started down the hill after them.
At the bottom, a group of ten waited. They were Anateri, all of them, except the two in the middle.
Fallon Hawkvale and Shea Halloran. Warlord and Battle Queen of the Trateri. The two people who had already reshaped the Broken Lands, though for good or bad, it was too early to say.
Eva quelled the nerves tangling up her insides. They were people. Powerful, dangerous people, but not monsters. At least not that she'd seen.
She'd met Shea twice. The first time, she’d been unaware of how important the woman was. It wouldn't have mattered even if she'd known. Eva had been desperate to find help before her herd was harmed. She had pushed and pushed, demanding someone listen. Shea had been the one who answered, but it could have easily gone a different way—with Eva's head separated from her shoulders for her presumption.
She hadn't cared about the risks. It was her job to speak for those who couldn't speak for themselves and she took that duty seriously.
Both Shea and Fallon were seated on horses as they watched Eva approach. Fallon's gaze was somber and watchful. He was every bit as fearsome as the stories had claimed. The force of his personality was a punch in the gut. This was a man who reshaped the world to fit his ideals rather than compromise them to fit reality.
The woman at his side was no less of a force of nature, though she was usually a bit more subtle about it.
As his guards spread out to form a perimeter, Fallon dismounted, walking over to his queen's side and holding his arms up. Shea gave him a look that would have sent Eva running.
"Do you want to chance falling on your face?" Fallon asked in an expectant drawl.
Shea's lip curled and she eyed him with irritation. For a second, Eva thought the Battle Queen would try to claw Fallon's face off.
Instead, Shea grimaced, allowing Fallon to assist her off her mount. Fallon's hands were incredibly gentle as he set Shea down on the ground with a care Eva would never have believed of a warrior like him, if she hadn't seen it.
Shea's hands went to massage her back as the Warlord settled one hand on her protruding belly and the other at her back. The look on his face was indescribably tender as he touched his Battle Queen's very pregnant stomach.
"Why have we interrupted our night to be called all the way out here?" Shea asked with an annoyed bite to her voice.
The Battle Queen's gaze landed on Eva as recognition dawned seconds later.
"I find myself curious as well," Fallon said. Unlike his queen, his expression wasn't friendly. He was a warrior and looked at Eva like one. Tall and imposing in a different way than Caden.
It wasn't hard to remember who he was and how he came to be there when he looked at her with that expression.
There was a horsey scream from above and then the rustle of wings as a dark shape threw itself over the side of the hill. The mythological glided, his wings wobbling slightly as he landed with a thump inches away from Eva.
"Would someone like to explain why a mythological was hiding up there?" Shea asked, unamused.
The Anateri closed in a circle around Shea as Fallon put himself between her and the mythological.
"It's why we called you here," Fiona volunteered. "Your standing orders are to bring anything dealing with the mythologicals directly to you, Warlord."
"I see." Fallon regarded the mythological intently.
The mythological sidled closer to Eva and unfolded one wing, holding it above her head as he glared challengingly at the rest of the humans.
Eva resisted the urge to bat that wing away, knowing it would only draw more attention to her peculiar situation.
"Would someone like to explain what is going on?" Fallon's gaze swung between Fiona and Hardwick.
"I would, Warlord, but it's not my story to tell," Hardwick said, nodding at Eva.
All eyes swung to her, including the mythological’s. She stared back at them, feeling like a rabbit caught in a hunter's sights.
A dismayed squeak escaped her. Why? Why did he have to say that?
"Speak, woman," Caden snapped, the harsh words serving to steel Eva's spine.
"I was out for a ride when I discovered him. His wings were bound with a barbed net that resembled vines and there was a barbed collar around his neck," she began. The story poured from her after that.
They stopped her when she reached the part about the men posing as the Trateri, so Fallon, Shea and Caden could step around the boulder and see the bodies for themselves.
Eva spotted Ollie sending her a questioning look from the other side of the Anateri. She shook her head, not wanting him involved in case Fallon or Caden decided she'd done something that put them in jeopardy.
"What did they say when they found you?" Caden asked.
Eva cast her mind back, trying to remember exactly what had happened. Adrenaline and the bump on her head had made everything a blur.
"They told me he was property of the Trateri," she said slowly.
Which had been a lie.
"Then they invited me to keep them entertained," Eva continued, her lip curling at the remembered disgust.
Shea's expression shifted as did Fiona's beside her. However, it was the tight, closed expression on Caden's face that truly surprised Eva.
"You said you knew they weren't Trateri," Fallon said. "How?"
Eva hesitated, trying to put her thoughts into words they would understand. "They didn't talk like Trateri or move like them. They were dressed in the right kind of clothes, but that was about it."
Even if they had been Trateri she probably would have acted in the same manner. The way the mythological had been bound hadn't just been inconvenient, it'd been cruel.
She kept that part to herself. She was in enough trouble. No need to add to it.
The knowing look in Hardwick's gaze warned her, he, at least, suspected the truth.
"Can you communicate with him? Find out why he came here?" Fallon asked Shea.
Shea's head tilted as she considered, one hand absently rubbing her belly. Finally, she shook her head. "No, even in my dreams Covath or Ajari act as their intermediaries. I'm not even sure they can communicate with humans." She sighed and glanced at Fallon. "We're going to need to summon Ajari."
"And hope he doesn't declare this a breach of the alliance." Fallon grimaced.
The rest of the warriors in the group didn't look any happier, their expressions apprehensive.
"Find out who they were," Fallon ordered Caden. His attention swung to Eva. "He seems to have formed a bond with you. I'm making you responsible for his care and wellbeing until we can contact his people and return him."
Eva froze, her eyes wide as the magnitude of the task she'd just been handed sank in. If anything happened to the mythological in her care, she would be dead. So very dead.
Surely the Warlord would prefer someone with more experience, someone the Trateri trusted implicitly, to take care of the mythological. Not Eva. The tagalong they'd stumbled across by accident. Someone whose own family had gladly betrayed her.
"Warlord—sir—Fallon." Eva fumbled for the correct manner of address, conscious of Ollie snickering at her attempts. "I'm not sure I'm the right person for this."
Shea raised an eyebrow at Eva. "Are you questioning your skills? Perhaps a different herd master would be more appropriate. I hear Bo out of the Earth Clan has a firm hand."
Eva blanched, the thought of Bo caring for the mythological abhorrent. The other herd maste
r was harsh with his horses and they were the worst trained in the army. He wasn't bad, just set in his ways. He'd try to treat the mythological like another horse and probably end up eaten as a result.
"That—"
"Or perhaps you question our decision." Fallon's expression was severe.
Eva shook her head, managing to stammer, "I'm not—I just—Hardwick—"
"Is busy with his own herd," Fallon said over her. "As important as the mythological's appearance and health is, I can't allow those mounts to be neglected."
Shea winked at Eva, taking the sting out of Fallon's words. The Warlord got a long-suffering look, as if his Battle Queen undercutting his authority was a regular occurrence.
Shea stepped forward, speaking for Eva's ears alone. "I know this will seem like a bigger task than you want to take on. You'll be forced into the light and others will question why you were chosen. Why would someone who isn't Trateri be allowed to care for a creature bearing an uncanny resemblance to one of their gods?"
Eva watched the other woman carefully. Shea's guess was scarily accurate.
Shea grinned. "Sometimes our actions shape fate, and other times fate chooses us. You can ignore the call, but it will just draw you in some other way. Besides, do you really think someone could do a better job than you?"
No, she didn't. It wasn't arrogance that led Eva to believe she was one of the best—with the exception of Hardwick. It was something she knew in her bones, a little voice that bolstered her when others doubted. Even Ollie didn't have quite her knack.
Seeing the acquiescence on Eva's face, Shea's smile slowly widened. That smile lit Shea up from the inside, transforming her already interesting face into one of beauty. It was a thing of purity and light.
"Good. I'd expect no less from the woman who confronted me and demanded I act in protection of her horses," Shea said.
"Don't fail," Fallon advised. The heavy weight of his stare sent shivers racing down Eva's back. The Warlord was not a man you'd want to disappoint. The consequences would be severe and probably life-ending.
Her "I won't," was almost lost as the Warlord helped Shea re-mount before leaping onto his own horse.
Eva was left feeling like she'd gotten caught in a tornado, her life coming unspun around her. She became abruptly aware of Caden's dark gaze on her where he lingered a few steps away.
"My men will be with you at all times," Caden said.
Eva had to wonder if that was a threat or an offer of protection. She nodded slowly, eyeing him carefully.
He narrowed his eyes before stalking off, taking the crackle of his intimidating presence with him.
The tension that had strung her muscles tight during the odd encounter slowly leaked from her as Caden mounted a piebald stallion with a white strip down his nose, named Nell. Eva had always liked caring for him. The horse’s temperament was very different from his master’s, sweet and loyal, where the man was cold and abrupt.
Eva remained upright until the group had ridden off. Only once they were gone did she allow herself to bend forward, releasing a harsh exhale.
That had been intense. How did Shea stand that atmosphere all the time? The Battle Queen must have nerves of steel.
Hardwick's heavy hand landed on her shoulder. "The Warlord tends to have that effect on people. You get used to it with time."
"No offense, but I'd rather not." Eva hoped this was her first and last encounter with the Hawkvale. Too much time in his presence would give her heart palpitations.
Ollie approached with an expression of stunned disbelief. "I can't believe the Hawkvale himself was here. This story will make the other herd masters so jealous."
Hardwick grunted, his attention already shifting to the mythological. He was careful to keep his distance, despite having worked on the mythological’s wounds.
Jason and Delia moved closer to them. Delia's eyes were wide and admiring as she got a look at the mythological up close. "He looks like the pictures and sculptures we have of Rava."
"He's not a god," Eva said, shaking off the unsettling encounter with the Warlord and Battle Queen. "He's flesh and blood, which means he needs food."
"What kind of food do you suppose he eats?" Delia asked doubtfully.
Like Hardwick, she stayed out of easy biting range of the mythological.
Jason didn't show that consideration, stepping close to the winged horse and reaching his hand out to touch.
Eva shook her head. Had he learned nothing from this morning?
The mythological snapped at his fingers.
Jason stumbled away with a startled cry as Eva stepped into the spot where he'd been moments before. Her closed fist knocked the mythological's teeth away from her exposed throat.
"What have I told you about trying to bite my friends?" Eva snarled.
The mythological gave her a disgruntled look she could read as easily as if she'd heard him. Jason wasn't her friend so the rules shouldn't apply to him.
Interesting. The mythological played word games as easily as most humans.
"Meat," Eva said in answer to Delia's question earlier. "I'm going to assume he eats a diet rich in meat."
The others, with the exception of Hardwick, gave the mythological wary glances. Suddenly, Eva's appointment as his caretaker didn't seem like the prize they'd thought seconds before.
CHAPTER FOUR
Eva’s dreams were filled with clouds in the shape of trees and trees shaped like clouds when her blanket was abruptly ripped off her, dousing her with the early morning chill. She shivered and stared blearily in confusion as the impact of hooves close to her head sent her scrambling to her feet.
Eva's movements were jerky as she spun, intent on finding the beast threatening her.
The mythological stared at her, his eyes wide and his ears pricked forward. The incriminating blanket hung from his sharp teeth as he moved his head up and down.
Eva sucked in a breath, her eyebrows already pulling down in a severe frown at the unwelcome wake-up call. "What was that for?"
The mythological's expression was unrepentant as he glared at her.
Caia approached from the side, grabbing one end of the blanket and tugging on it. The mythological balked, refusing to let go as both tugged on their ends, neither willing to relinquish their prize.
It would have been funny to watch them battling it out over a simple blanket like two dogs over a bone, if it hadn't been the only blanket Eva owned, and terrible growls weren't rumbling from the mythological's chest. Sounds more suited to a nightmare creature who did its hunting under cover of darkness than a horse with wings.
It should have sent her scurrying for cover. Instead, she wavered between interfering and staying safely on the sidelines.
There was a loud rip as her blanket tore in half.
Both horses stopped, disappointment in their expressions as they stared down at their now broken toy. Caia dropped her half, already bored. The mythological pranced in a circle before draping the blanket over his back as if it was proof of his victory.
Finished, he looked back at Eva expectantly.
"That was my only blanket," she told him mournfully.
His head jerked slightly as his ears flicked. He glanced away, avoiding her eyes as guilt stole into his body language.
Eva waited, her expression grumpy.
He bent his head and rubbed one cheek against his foreleg before straightening and arching his neck. His tail swished behind him as he pretended innocence and indifference.
Caia stretched her muzzle out toward the blanket still draped across his back, moving stealthily and silently.
Her teeth were closing on fabric when he skittered out of the way with a victorious whinny. Caia's grab missed and she bit down on air.
She reared her head back, giving him a disgruntled look before trying to nip his flank.
He jerked out of the way just in time. He spun and showed her his teeth, a warning to not get ahead of herself, Eva figured. He'd let the normal
horse play with him, but his patience had an end.
It seemed biting was that line in the sand for him.
"My blanket, please." Eva held her hand out for the blanket, keeping it there even when he tried to ignore her.
The mythological stared away from her.
"I know you can still see me." Horses had binocular vision. They didn't see so well directly in front of their nose or behind their tail—one of the reasons they tended to kick first and ask questions later—but they had excellent peripheral vision.
Seeming to understand her thinking, the mythological turned until his rear was pointed in Eva's direction.
Caia watched the entire exchange with a baffled expression.
Eva growled under her breath and stalked to one side, starting to move around the beast. He turned with her again, lining his rear up with her.
"You're being childish," she snapped.
He stomped his back hoof.
"Kick me and I will geld you." It was a mostly empty threat.
He seemed to know it too.
Eva bared her teeth. "Alright, then Jason can be your caretaker."
The mythological whirled, alarm in his horsey expression.
"I thought you might see it my way," she taunted.
There was a deep laugh behind her.
Eva whirled, defensive, as her heart pounded. Seeing no one there, she glanced up and blanched, fear curling around her insides.
Perched like giant birds on the boulder she'd camped next to last night were two mythologicals—one winged and the other wingless. They had to be Covath's people, a group now known to the Trateri as the Tenrin. Their forms were that of men, but broader and more powerful, their features slightly blunter. The wingless one was the color of the deepest night with a slight opalescent sheen to his skin that reminded Eva of starlight. He seemed to glow with an inner light even during the early light of morning.
Despite the differences that separated him from human-kind, he had an otherworldly beauty to him. Had he been human, Eva would have been tempted to use the word handsome.
His nose was slightly flatter than a human’s, his mouth filled with sharp lower and upper canines. Dark black hair brushed his shoulders, feathers interspersed throughout as if his body hadn’t been able to decide between the two. He wore a loincloth, his only nod to modesty.
