Pixilated (4 page)

She urged her horse near. As soon as she
came within arm’s reach, the elf surged to his feet and grabbed at
the reins. Mistral danced away, and Kayseri saw that even if he had
succeeded in grabbing her reins, he could not hold them. Holding on
to consciousness taxed the poor elf’s strength. Losing his battle,
the elf slumped to the ground. Kayseri dismounted and crouched
beside him, noting a deep gash on his forehead. She eased him onto
his back and set her canteen to his lips. The cool water revived
him enough to gaze at her with pain-glazed eyes.

"They have abducted my princess. I must
recover her." He tried to push himself up, failed, and fell back
with a moan.

Kayseri fetched her saddlebag to elevate his
head.

"You must help me."

"My Captain is on his way." Kayseri forced
more water between his lips. "He’ll know how to help you."

The elf closed his eyes. "I am Eldren of
Thallasi, Son-heir of the Fourth House, Envoy of Allon, Sar el
Thallasi."

She rolled her eyes. Pedigree. Trust an elf
to stand upon his all-important pedigree even when he was dying.
Eldren of Thallasi watched her through pale almost colorless blue
eyes. Taking a deep breath, she tried to make her own lineage as
interesting as possible. "I’m Kayseri Marea Bruin, daughter of
Lathan Bruin of Elhar and Lethea pixie of the Leafy River
Clan."

A trace of a smile touched Eldren’s lips.
"Good fortune has brought me to the god worker’s daughter. You will
take me to your father."

Fortune, good or ill, had nothing to do with
it. Mischief landed this elf in her lap. "I'm afraid I can't do
that. My father doesn’t like strangers coming to our home."

Eldren squeezed her hand hard enough to
hurt. His strength surprised her. Kayseri caught her lower lip
between her teeth and glanced down the path stretching back through
the trees. "My Captain should be here any minute. I promise he will
help you."

***

Kree rode the north road at a walk. What a
pretty pass he had come to, terrorizing his cadets by day and
chasing after half-pixie girls by night. In two days, Kayseri Bruin
had turned his well-ordered life upside down, and he had not felt
so alive in years. When he caught up with her, he would…His head
filled with images of Kayseri’s dark chocolate eyes dilated by
passion, her full pink lips swollen from his kisses, her glorious
raven curls spread wild across his white pillowcases, her pert
breasts pressed against—Kree banished these images. None of those
things was going to happen.

When he reached the spot his cadet had
described, Kree reined in listening for another horse. Hearing
nothing, he silently lamented turning his back on his Goddess. His
curses felt impotent. The captain pressed northward. Given its
head, a self-respecting saddle horse would stay on a nice smooth
road. Having trained Mistral himself, Kree doubted the mare would
have gone far before calming enough for even a novice rider to
control. Still, he decided to ride a little further north, dismount
and walked back the way he’d come. Tracking in the dark was not an
easy prospect, and he was not the garrison’s best tracker by a long
shot. Chana’s skill would be welcome about now. He cursed his
temper. Losing it never served him.

Around the next curve, Kree caught sight of
an overturned carriage. Moonlight outlined bodies sprawled nearby.
Dread knotted his stomach. Saber drawn, he kneed Storm forward.
Once he was sure, no danger lurked in the shadows he sheathed his
saber and slid off his horse. Close investigation revealed a fine
carriage, black lacquer with blue velvet interior and gold
hardware. A very fine carriage indeed, the sort elfin nobility
preferred. A small porcelain doll dressed in a fussy white satin
gown lay upside-down against the far door. He reached through the
window and plucked it out.

Elfin. Interesting
.

Tucking the doll into his belt pouch, Kree
inspected the bodies. There were three in all, two men and
a...something. Both men wore Temple braids, but nothing else about
them indicated they were Templemen. Why would someone pretend
allegiance to Namar? Whoever they were, they died by mage-fire.
Even if he hadn’t recognized the signs, his sensitivity to magic
confirmed it. This had not been a simple working; his skin tingled
with its echo.

The third body was a puzzle. It was an elf.
At least Kree thought it was judging from its ears, but he had
never seen an elf as tall as this one nor quite so alien looking.
The Thallasi, with whom duty forced him to deal, looked almost
human aside from their pointed ears. There was nothing human in
this elf’s fierce frozen beauty.

The confusion of tracks told Kree a large
party had attacked the carriage. Half a dozen sets of prints headed
south and another group moved west toward Malachite. No surprise
there. Malachite was a cesspool for the discontented. On the far
side of the road, he came upon a set of narrow prints headed north
into the woods. The tracks of a single horse with a tiny gryphon
engraved on its shoes intersected and partially obscured those
prints. The answer to his puzzle was moving north, and so was
Katie. The staggered erratic footprints suggested the person he
followed might be injured, and whoever that person was, he made no
effort to conceal his trail. Broken branches marked the route as
clearly, as if someone had posted a sign reading, "This way." The
captain walked slowly leading Storm by the reins.

Deep in the forest, a horse nickered.
Dropping Storm’s reins, Kree drew one of his fighting knives and
advanced through the trees at a crouch. Fifty paces farther, he
crossed a deer path where he found a bit of pink ribbon caught on a
branch. His heartbeat accelerated, his muscles tensed. Up ahead the
horse nickered again. Kree moved through the trees parallel to the
deer path until he came to an opening in the trees and spotted
Kayseri sitting on the path. Mercenaries in the woods, murder on
the road, and Katie right smack in the middle of it, meant only one
thing. Mischief.

Relief washed over him, an odd feeling given
the circumstances; he should be angry. He promised himself he would
be as soon as he had time. Right now, he had a puzzle to solve, and
the elf, whose head rested on Kayseri’s lap, was the missing piece.
Kree stepped out onto the path.

"Katie."

If pixies had wings, Kree would have sworn
she flew into his arms babbling about the elf being a prince and
mortally wounded. After a swift inspection to make sure Kayseri was
unhurt, Kree cleaned and stitched the elf’s head wound while Katie
told him of their encounter. The elf remained unconscious, a
blessing really considering the cut was deep, and Kree's kit did
not contain origanum. He never carried any. Pain told him when to
quit the field, a thing a man high on Goddess nectar might not
realize. The elf’s other injuries were minor, a cut here, a bruise
there. By the time Kree finished cleaning them, he had regained
consciousness.

Kayseri pressed Kree’s flask to the elf’s
lips, but the pointy-eared prig spit the amber liquid on the
ground. His pale eyes glared at Kree. "I am Eldren of Thallasi,
Son-heir of the Fourth House, Envoy of Allon, Sar el Thallasi."

Are you now?
Kree rehearsed various
titles in his mind. He owned a butt-load of them. He could say he
was a Goddess-born Gryphon or he was Captain of Qets Garrison. He
could say he was the Knight Protector of the Qets frontier, but
with the fellow being an elf prince and all, he opted for the title
guaranteed to give the most offense.

"Kree Fawr, bastard." He sucked his teeth.
"Nice to meet you."

Kayseri’s shocked expression provoked a
quick crooked grin Kree was certain the elf saw as cocky. Let him.
"That’s good dwarf mead you’re wasting, elf." He took the flask
from Kayseri and offered it again. "Does more to restore a fellow
when swallowed."

Eldren shoved his hand away.

"Suit yourself." Kree took a quick swallow,
wiped his month with the back of his hand, and slipped the flask
back into his field kit. "Is that your carriage back on the
road?"

Eldren narrowed his almond-shaped eyes into
slits. "Where is the Nhurstari?"

Nhurstari? That race had died out before
the Stars fell into Elhar.
Kree frowned. "What?"

The Thallasi prince raked a slender hand
through pale blond hair. It trembled. "I speak of the other
elf."

"Ah."
Maybe not. Interesting
. "I’m
sorry for your loss."

Eldren bowed his head. A sigh escaped him.
Beyond that, he held his silence.

"What business does a pair of elf lords have
in my frontier?"

The prince gave him that narrow-eyed look
again, the same look he had given him when he had asked about the
carriage. The look said the elf did not want to tell him
anything.

"The Nhurstari lord and I were transporting
a gift from my people to his. Humans overpowered us and stole the
gift. I must recover it."

Interesting.
Out of the corner of his
eye, Kree saw surprise flash across Kayseri’s face.
Not true,
but interesting.
There was a time in his life and not all that
long ago, when he would have called the elf a liar on the spot, but
the years had taught him some discretion. They really had. He
nodded all sympathy.

"Well, here's the good news is you'll be in
shape to travel tomorrow. We’ll stay here tonight. In case there’s
any more trouble." He shot a quick glance at Kayseri, a silent
warning against further mischief. "Not that I’m expecting any."

Slapping his knees as if this settled
everything, Kree stood, stretched. "I'll see to the horses." He
patted his stomach looking down at the elf. "Are you hungry, Prince
Eldren? Maybe I’ll set a snare too. Give me a hand will you,
Katie?"

Kayseri dimpled. "I’d love to, My Captain."
She rose gracefully and slipped her hand into his. Her touch
sizzled through his blood. Damnation. He needed to stay far away
from her.

Kree found a grassy spot to picket the
horses and drove in the stakes. All the while, he felt Kayseri’s
gaze on his back. Women stared at him. Always had. It was a fact of
his Goddess-born life. Having this particular woman stare at him
was a bit unsettling. Who, by Namar's bloody tears, was he kidding?
It was a lot unsettling for a host of reasons. They should be on
their way back to the garrison right now. Instead, he chose to
spend the night in the woods. Why? Because he wanted to steal a few
hours in Kayseri's company chaperoned by someone who did not know
them. He was a trice-damned fool.

"What are we going to do now?"

Kree favored Kayseri with his most congenial
grin, the one he used in council meetings when he wanted his
officers to understand debate was over. "We are not going to do
anything. You are going home in the morning. That elf is going to
sit in my stockade until he decides to tell me the truth."

"You can’t do that!" Outrage filled
Kayseri’s voice. "Eldren is a Prince of Thallasi!"

He had forgotten her distant connection to
that supercilious bloodline. His temper, already badly frayed
around the edges, unraveled. He gripped her shoulders. "He says.
You say he tried to steal your horse."

"Only because he's desperate. Just because
an elf is desperate doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve our help.
Besides, I promised him."

Kree wanted to shake her until her teeth
rattled. He wanted to kiss her until she melted in his mouth.
Namar’s tears, he was losing his mind. Kayseri Bruin was driving
him mad. Maybe he was allergic to pixie pheromones. Was that even
possible? He vowed to ask Duncan as soon as he got back to the
garrison. Maybe his genius first lieutenant could come up with a
cure. One thing for sure, if he did not take his hands off Kayseri
in the next three seconds, he was going to do
something...unadvisable. He stepped back and growled, actually
growled.

"Maybe you shouldn’t have." Rage and
frustration strained his voice to a ragged whisper. "Like you
shouldn’t have dumped my cadet in the river. Like you shouldn’t
make me think you’re in danger when you aren’t. Sweet Namar’s
tears, Katie, didn’t you stop to think how worried I’d be? Don’t
ever do that to me again. Don’t run away. Don’t take your anger out
on my cadets. Fight with me. I can’t go through this again. Promise
me."

Having gotten his anger out of his system,
Kree felt better. Much better. A hundred times better. It was like
recovering his balance after taking a hit that nearly unhorsed him.
His balance lasted until he saw the first tear slide down Kayseri’s
cheek. Damn her. Tears were not fair. His heart cracked open, and
his newly won equilibrium leaked out through the cracks. He
gathered her into his arms.

"I’m sorry, My Captain." She sobbed against
his abdomen. "I wanted to spend time with you." She sniffed loudly.
"Like we used to."

"Hush." Kree squeezed his eyes shut against
the echo of his dead wife’s voice,
‘When will you have time for
me, Kree? I hate your Goddess. I hate you.’
He smoothed his
hand down Kayseri’s dark curly hair. The soft springy feel of it
against his callused fingers sent a shiver down his spine. Sweet
Namar’s breath, he wanted to rub his face in it. Clearly, he was
insane. "It’s all right. Everything’s all right now. Your Captain’s
here." He wrapped his arms around her pulling her closer.

Kayseri breathed deeply, filling her lungs
with his scent. He smelled of horses, steel, and leather... and
Kree. The of the Goddess' magic clinging to him was fainter than
she remembered, but it was there, branded into his flesh. Many
Wilderkin found Kree’s scent offensive, but Kayseri loved it. He
smelled like the best days of her life. She snuggled against his
taut muscled abdomen, hearing his strong heart beat just above her
ear. The warmth of his body delighted her, as did the soft breathy
sound of his voice. Nothing was more wonderful. Then Kree proved
her wrong. He raised her tear-streaked face, flexed his knees so
his big body cradled hers, and kissed her. It was a tender chaste
kiss, a butterfly light brush of lips against lips, but it heated
her to her core. She smiled.