by Aimee Moore
I looked at Mindrik, who seemed to be at war with something within himself, and then at Dal, whose trusting gaze bolstered my confidence.
“I have betrayed no one,” I said, my voice shaking.
“She speaks the truth,” Mindrik's voice rang through the small space.
My mouth opened a fraction as surprise orchestrated my features for a moment.
Mindrik continued. “I have seen her level a battlefield of Kraw. No alliance could withstand such carnage.”
I tried to convey my thanks in my eyes, but Mindrik did not look at me.
The councilmen whispered again.
Sol Lalpund, red flame dancing above his head and in his eyes, spoke up then. “She possesses fire, it is true. But if what Mindrik says is true then how has she gained such expansive ability? Why have we not heard of Seraphine of Lambston?”
“There are no Gifted in my village, and so no cause to expect any offspring to be so.”
“Preposterous,” Sol Vraldok said.
Dal's booming voice filled the room. “Your arrogance blinds you to the gifts of your species. You waste time disputing the truth before your eyes. Let us move on.”
The council sniffed and raised their chins.
“We direct this meeting, not you,” Sol Crepuskar said.
“There is another matter at hand,” Sol Creljin said, raising a document for all to see. It was the document Mindrik had signed at the inhospitable sunflower town that Kenni lived in. “You have signed this note with the provisional symbol of satisfactory services rendered. Before we pay out the sum, we are burdened with knowing whether the services were satisfactory or not.”
I cast Mindrik a smile. Well played.
Mindrik scoffed. “The pigswill who live there offered us almost no food, one bed between the two of us, forced the Kraw to leave at night, and made attempts on the lady's virtue once she was unguarded. No, services were not satisfactory and I most certainly will not pay it. Please send my kind regards with the decline.”
“As you wish,” Sol Creljin sounded bored as he lowered the document and focused on what his feather quill was scribbling.
“I will pay it,” I burst out. All eyes were on me.
“You are impoverished,” Sol Crepuskar said.
“Then I’ll work for it. They need coin to buy seeds for food. Please, do not let them starve,” I said, thinking of Kenni’s hope for her son. Silence filled the room, and I looked at Dal and Mindrik for support.
“I will buy seed for them, nothing more,” Mindrik said.
“Very well,” Sol Creljin said in a flat tone, “One basket of variety vegetable seed to be delivered as payment. Let us move on.”
“Thank you,” I whispered to Mindrik, who appeared indifferent to my gratitude. Dal’s eyes warmed to me.
Sol Lalpund, fire dancing in his eyes, spoke out now. “Beast, you are here, offering yourself as a traitor to your race. It is upon this condition that you have been made a guest in our grand city. I trust you will not make us regret the decision.”
“You will address him as Dal,” I thundered into the room. All eyes were on me.
“You will know your place,” Sol Jalgon hollered as the dust in the cracks of the stone and marble began to rise.
“Sera,” Dal's murmur met my ears. I shook it off.
“And you will show respect to the man who is offering his entire race to you. We can just as well abandon your city and its crumbling walls to the encroaching Kraw if we choose.” My last word echoed off the stone walls.
The council looked down at me, amused, neither moved nor incensed by my angry tirade.
Sol Lalpund spoke again, bored. “The beast will be addressed as what he is, or he’ll do what he came to do from behind the bars of a cell. Perhaps, if that displeases you, you can join him.” Then he turned his mocking glare to the Kraw next to me. “Tell us what you came here to tell us.”
I turned to Dal, my heart in my throat, realizing the full impact of what I had asked him to do. It was heavy on me now, the weight of his burden. Who would he betray in order to satisfy the council?
Dal's voice was confident when he spoke, firm and deep. “You know that Kraw are not from your world.”
“Yes yes, get on with it,” Sol Vraldok waved an impatient hand.
“You know that Kraw are exterminating you. And you know why.” Dal watched them all, his face betraying nothing.
“And you know why we shall not give the conquering beasts what we have found,” Sol Crepuskar's voice, as black as her fire, seeped into the space.
I focused on painting my features into a neutral expression, so as not to give away my confusion.
“Kraw know where it lies. They know how to breach it. And they know how to take it. The walls around it shall crumble easily in a Kraw attack.”
Dal’s eyes flicked between the council members for a moment, face remaining neutral.
The council sent whispers around the room, over our heads, through the rafters.
Sol Jalgon, straightening with a smile, spoke. “The beasts are unaware of my gift; I am to assume?”
“Kraw do not need to know of any of your gifts. Kraw are strong, adept at war in ways you cannot imagine.”
Sol Jalgon frowned, the brown flame above his head looking out of place over the sagging skin of his face.
“Tell us something we can use, Dal, or be gone from our sight,” Sol Crepuskar's cat-like gaze narrowed.
“I will tell you something you cannot use. The leyline must be destroyed, it is the only way to save your city.”
Sol Lalpund snarled. “You would have us snuff our greatest weapon and leave ourselves defenseless to your barbaric brethren? Whose side does your heart beat for, beast?”
Sol Creljin said, “Perhaps that is his intent, to coerce us into helplessness so that his Kraw can spoil our grand city.”
Sol Crepuskar smiled. “I hadn’t thought them clever enough to send a rat.”
“He’s not lying,” I said. “Please, consider our request. If the leyline is destroyed the Kraw have no reason to be here.”
Sol Jalgon laughed, and soon the laughter spread among them. Panic clutched at my throat as I realized that they weren’t going to listen to reason.
“This is your last chance, beast.” Sol Vraldok said. “Give us something we can use, or become a prisoner of war. I would very much like to see you suffer for the misdeeds of your people.”
Dal cast me a fast, sorrowful look, before raising his gaze to the council. “Kraw are vulnerable to light. More light means less strength to fight.”
Unsure frowns flicked all around the raised balconies, whispers flowed around the room.
I was fighting an internal battle with what Dal just said. He sold the Kraw's greatest strength as weakness, and my people, should they use it, would be dousing flame with oil, incinerating themselves in the explosion.
Mindrik stared at Dal, then spoke in a quiet voice. “That is why Kraw attack at night.”
The council were still sharing whispers, nods, and scowls. At long last they straightened and looked down upon us.
Sol Creljin spoke, crisp blue robes bringing out the blue of his eyes. “Tell us why we should believe anything that comes out of a traitor's mouth.”
Dal gave a great sigh. “My compassion for your species labeled me a traitor among my kind long before I set foot in your city. I watched my child die in my wife’s arms before being sentenced to death. Would you not, if you could, find justice for the senseless deaths of your wife and child?”
I tilted my head at Dal as the whispers flew, noticing how he used the word wife instead of mate. Soon the whispers stopped, and their attention turned to me.
“Seraphine of Lambston, you will be given instruction at the leisure of myself, Sol Lalpund, when I see fit. You will be rewarded richly for bringing this Dal to us, for your forethought and consideration may have changed the tide of battle. When at last the Kraw march upon us, may our strength wash away the fo
ul scum of their species.”
I bowed my head once, not sure if it was the right gesture or not. Sol Creljin spoke up to Mindrik, moving the conversation away from myself.
“Mindrik, you will continue your instruction under me starting today. We have much to discuss.”
And with that, the council members each reached somewhere behind their balconies, and five gongs rang nearly in unison. We turned when escorts came to lead us away. As we exited the grand room, I looked over my shoulder once to see the council all staring after us, stone-faced as ever.
Chapter 20
Fire and Ice
“My dear woman, you and I are equals now, do you not see?”
Mindrik was nearly giddy with this news as the three of us found our way to the gardens. “We shall find you fitting robes of red and gold, which may clash with that hair, and together we shall be the talk of the capital. Just last night when I ventured for the library I ran into no less than twelve interested—"
I glanced to Dal as we walked, tuning Mindrik out, and Dal stared resolutely forward, not sparing a glance for Mindrik or his apparent joy at our newly equal status. When Mindrik was done babbling, I finally spoke.
“Funny, I had considered us equals long before we set foot here. When last I checked the both of us bore the same red blood from our wounds,” I said in a curt tone.
Mindrik waved my words away. “Yes yes, I know all of that. But surely you understand what I mean? Peers of the capital. Seraphine, this day you are no longer a country bumpkin. You are an established lady of Elanthia, and your title shall reflect it. As prodigy follower to Sol Lalpund, you now have access to all of the finest things this capital has to offer. Privilege, my dear, privilege.”
I furrowed my brow. There was only one thing in all this capital that I wanted, and he was striding next to me as my untouchable guard. Worse yet, my new “status” was a temporary grant. I had just been given everything my quaint heart could have ever wanted, and I was going to burn it away when I destroyed the leyline.
“Mindrik, I am the same woman you knew yesterday, only now I shall be taught to use my gift by one of those arrogant old men. Let us hope their teaching is satisfactory.” The word “satisfactory” brought to surface a memory from the council room, and a smile stole over my face.
“What’s put that flushed smile upon your face?” Mindrik asked with merriment.
I looked over at him. “The rune you placed on the note back in the village. It was, if I may say, pure genius. You surprised me.”
Mindrik puffed out his chest. “Of course it was. What I lack in Kraw brawn I make up for in mental agility. One cannot be a fool in this world, for as you have seen, it is full of villainy.”
I frowned at my memory of Kenni. “Yes, it certainly is.” I glanced over at Dal, but he remained listening as he kept pace with us. “I am sorry that they did not have the decency to reward you as well, Dal.”
His gaze met mine and I melted inside.
“Do not hold sorrow for me,” Dal said. “I gave them what they wanted, and so I shall pass through their sea of troubles freely.”
“Or perhaps they will poison you at your next meal, assuring themselves an easy victory,” Mindrik said.
I scowled at him.
Dal smiled, showing large, predatory canines. “Then, perhaps, it is a shame for them that Kraw possess a far greater sense of smell than even the keenest hunting hound.”
Mindrik waved away Dal's comment. “All I am saying, Kraw, is that you have given them what they wanted, and now you are of no use to them.”
“A problem I shall address when it comes to existence.”
✽✽✽
That night, in our room, the doors locked and the sheets tangled, Dal and I lay in each other's arms, spent and blissful. His quarters remained unused.
“You said this one was a binding spell. How does it work?” I ran my fingers down his right pectoral, tracing the odd symbols that continued down his firm stomach and powerful thigh.
Dal didn't even have to look. His deep, warm voice vibrated in every cell of my body when he spoke, lighting my nerves afire and soothing me all at once. “The blood brand. Long ago before the age of peace in our home we used our great power against one another, warring for dominance.”
“You'll understand if I don't find that so terribly hard to believe,” I said with a teasing smile.
Dal returned the grin, seeing my humorous point of view. “Once peace was established, the elders of our race decided that to prevent further unrest and war, a traitor's mark would be worn by any who dared to use great power against another.
“All of us are bound at birth, the squalling infant resisting the mark. Should I use any power against another Kraw, my binding will shift, branding me a traitor for my race to see, and I will become a lesser creature plagued by weakness and frailty, deserving only of contempt and cruelty, possibly even death.”
I gasped. “That's awful.”
“Kraw do not think so. The spell has served our society well.”
I frowned. “I saw you cut Gralt's arm off, and yet you appear no different. Are you already branded and I cannot see it?”
Dal's deep voice broke a little on the word. “No. I have not used power on another. The halting of time, when used to still other Kraw into submission, would bring the blood brand to life.”
I rested my head on his shoulder, a crease in my brow as I thought. “That was what Patroma meant when she mentioned the traitor's brand.”
Dal's body gave a slight shift with his single nod. “There are many names for it.”
“How unfortunate for Gralt and his missing arm.”
“Removing one man's arm will not shift the power of my world. You will recall the fireflies and how I stilled their flight. I could still the flight of my world, if I so wished. Kraw power, in the hands of one with intent to do harm, is apocalyptic.”
I sighed, tracing the mark. “We are lucky that your brand does not know what you did today.”
“You are unaware of what I did.”
I sat up on my elbows, tucking the cascading red of my hair out of the way, and Dal gave me an unguarded look. “You told the council how much the Kraw know. How much you know. And it was many things that I do not.” A hint of sadness touched my voice, as a stab of betrayal lanced through me.
Dal's breath was heavy and relaxed as he stroked a finger up my hip. “You assume much, Sera.”
“How much have you not told me?” I whispered.
“I have told you all that I can.”
I looked away. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. I wasn't supposed to yearn for his secrets as much as I yearned for his touch. Did he owe them to me now that I had given him my body? No, he owed me nothing. I had asked for nothing, given everything.
This was the price I paid for not thinking past the dawn that might have stolen the life from me. Now I've given him my heart, and still he was solitary inside, not letting me in. My eyes warmed and stung as I realized that perhaps, in my naïveté, I had fallen in love with a man who could not love me back.
Large, rough fingertips caught my chin and turned my face toward those hazel eyes. The ones that illuminated the pages of my book as clearly as children's books in the full light of day. I hated myself for my transparency. For wanting what he could not give. For the tear that streaked down my cheek.
Dal tilted his head, a curious expression, and wiped away the wet streak with his thumb. “I have upset you,” he murmured.
“I have upset myself,” I said.
“You think I guard my knowledge from you.”
“I knew better.” I palmed at my eyes, pulling away from him.
“You had no way of knowing.”
“It matters not.”
“Seraphine, you must listen to me.”
At the use of my full name, I turned to Dal, fidgeting with the soft shell tied around my neck.
“I have worlds of information I could spill upon you. And one da
y, I will. But not now, not when it could cost you your life. I did not tell the council anything you did not know, I guessed and they answered.”
I blinked. “You bluffed?”
Dal quirked half a grin at the new word. “Yes, bluff. I have discovered that they are not merely hiding a leyline, but something else they have found. Perhaps the leyline houses the thing that they found. I have learned that it is underground, and near water. The blue wizard confirmed it in a whisper.”
“You could hear them,” I said with a smile.
“Yes.”
“Every word.”
Dal gave a nod.
“It was how you made them believe you.”
“I told them what they wanted to hear. They made it easy.”
I gave a small laugh, palming away the last of my tears.
A look of concern crossed Dal's face, and he pulled me closer. “You are still upset. But not because I have given your species the weapons of their own destruction.”
I looked down at my thin fingers. “I know that you did it for the good of my world.” I raised my chin and met his gaze. “I can't give you my body and not my trust, Dal.” My heart thundered in my eyes as I realized that trust of this magnitude was interchangeable with love.
Dal searched my eyes, reading, and understanding. He knew I was in love with him. I saw it in the softening of his features, I read it in the firmness of his touch.
“You, too, are a traitor to your race now, Sera.”
“I was the moment I kissed you.”
Dal pulled me atop him, and a quick breath of delight escaped my lips. “Then do not stop your traitorous actions,” he said on a growl.
Then the hard length of him was burning against my sensitive opening, and my mind was awash with new sensations, feelings on the matter forgotten. From up here, I was now in control, even though his hands guided my hips and his body moved under me with commanding precision.
I gasped as he lowered me onto him, taking all of his length, and watched expressions of bliss cross his face. From here, those large lands had access to all of me, and my movements became less unsure and more confident as the soft groans on his breath told me that he was as much in ecstasy as I was. I drew out our pleasure as long as I could, taking my time with this new experience.
