Not leaves, beads. Red beads, the sign
of a Death Rider’s honor, a mark executed in Vulkar’s name.
Fury and fear pulsed within her, a
spreading lake of darkness. She raked the ground with her claws, tearing the
green grass to bare black soil beneath.
“
Na’lanna
.”
She whirled. Shadows hung thick and
deadly in the peaceful vale, but she knew he was there. Gregar was always there
in the coldest Shadow. “Death Riders hunt me again.”
“Nay, you know they do not.”
Her heart thudded, her chest banded in
iron.
It must be me. It must!
“I was
your greatest mark! They’ve always sniffed me out. That’s why I was given Blood
of my own.”
“Your sacrifice was never sanctioned by
the Great Wind Stallion.”
If it wasn’t her, and Gregar was already
dead… “Vulkar can’t have him!”
Shadows peeled away to reveal her
beloved assassin, the Shadowed Blood, Gregar. His face was ravaged with grief,
his cheeks wet with sorrow. He rolled the ivory
rahke
back and forth across his palm. “There’s nothing I can do.”
“You’re his Blood. You must save him.”
“Forgive me,
na’lanna
.” His voice was ragged and harsh with pain. “I’m Blood no
more, only one who lies in wait, wrapped in Shadow.”
She lunged at him and knocked him off
balance with her wings. Seizing him in her claws, she flattened him out on his
back beneath her and leaned down, deliberately bearing her teeth. “You
will
save him.”
“I can’t, not even for you. No matter
how dread and grim, the Gods have a purpose. Vulkar Calls him home.”
Deliberately, she tightened her grip on
him. The dark, rich scent of caffe filled the night. The woman in her
remembered licking that blood from his chest while Rhaekhar made love to her.
The dragon in her only wanted to shred that fragile skin and crunch through bones
until he screamed.
“Do so if it will make you feel better.”
He closed his eyes. Acceptance smoothed the lines of strain about his mouth. “I
already died for you.”
Throwing her head back, she bellowed
with fury, lashing and clawing in agony. Gregar cried out, but it wasn’t a
sound of pain. His eyes were swallowed with darkness, the ivory
rahke
in his hand, his blood thick on
the air. Even the black dragon had known that blade should have been in her
heart. “Do it! Put your
rahke
in me
and end my suffering!”
“Never.” Blood trickled out of his mouth
as he smiled. “I love you too much to kill you, even to spare you this grief.”
“You died,” she rasped. “If he dies, I
won’t survive.”
“You must. Your Lady has a purpose for
you yet.”
With a roar, she slung him aside. Every
burning instinct in her dragon heart urged her to kill. The horses down in the
valley; the people out on the Plains; the warriors she loved who tore her heart
from her chest and trampled it into the dirt.
Kill,
kill, kill
, pounded in her head, her heart.
:Shannari,
my heart.:
Rhaekhar’s bond filled her mind like warm, golden
sunlight.
:I’m alive and well. Your fears
are groundless.:
With a vicious snarl, she tucked mental
wings tight and plummeted down his bond, sliding through distance and time to
slam into her warrior. She paused a moment, wings beating steady and hard
within his mind. He never thought to defend himself from her and he made no
attempt to drive her out. Sniffing his memories, she clawed her way to the
Blood bonds tucked away in the back of his mind.
With a long, steady pull of her wings,
she soared down that bond and crashed into Khul’s nearest Blood, the one who
hated her the most. She didn’t know if he could hear her. She had no blood bond
with him. He’d never tasted her blood or cared one way or the other if she
lived or died, but they shared a love for Khul, and they’d both tasted his
blood.
:Death
Riders hunt him.:
She raked her claws through Varne’s
mind and she felt his body twitching in pain. Vicious pleasure filled her and she
stretched her wings, hammering and battering him through his bond.
:Do you hear me? Protect him! Keep him alive
and well as you swore to do, or I’ll rip your heart out of your chest and eat
you alive!:
* * *
VARNE LAY TWITCHING ON THE ground, blood
leaking from his mouth and nose as though he’d been trampled by an entire herd
of stampeding
na’kindren
. Their
temporary camp was in chaos:
na’kindren
rearing and squealing in terror; warriors rushing about to soothe them; his
twins awake from their sleep. Aware beyond their years, they hugged each other
but didn’t cry, as though they knew their mother was in grave danger and they
didn’t dare distract their father.
Resisting the urge to cradle his head at
the memory of wings crashing through him, Rhaekhar straightened and willed his
breathing to steady, his thoughts to calm. He hardened his bond to warrior
steel.
:Shannari, desist at once.:
Closing his eyes, he swore he could see
her glowing light just beyond, the play of light flickering like moonlight on
rippling water. Still feral, she at least stopped harming his Blood, but she
felt pinned down by that bond that did not belong to her. As her panic
increased, he knew she’d begin to flail and tear her way toward freedom like a
wounded animal.
Bracing himself, he held his mind and
mental arms open wide.
:Come back to me,
na’lanna
. You know where you belong.:
As she crawled back into his mind, a
rush of feathers and cold water flooded him. He gasped, shivering from head to
toe as she slipped inside him. Restless and worried, she paced within him, so
large and powerful he felt bruised deep inside.
She felt his pain and shame rocked
through their bond, but she couldn’t stop prowling.
:They’re coming for you. I saw the beads, the red
kae’als
.:
:Shhhh,:
he whispered, letting the pain wash through him and away, taking some of her
anxiety with it.
:Is this the dragon you
spoke of?:
Confusion swamped her and she hesitated.
If she’d been standing before him, she would have sagged into his arms, unable
to hold herself up. Distantly, he felt Dharman cup her face in his hands,
fingers digging into her cheeks, his voice ringing loudly as he called out to
her. She couldn’t be fully awake and still wear this strange beastly form in
their bond.
:You Dreamed,
na’lanna
. None of it was real.:
:The
Gods speak in Dreams.:
Feathers and scales melted away,
leaving her shivering and huddled like a small child in the center of that
large bed. Alone. She’d been sleeping alone. The thought both pleased and
frustrated him, for he never wanted her to feel scared or guilty of her heart’s
desire.
:If it’s true…:
A ragged sob tore through their bond and
lodged in his heart.
:Peace,
na’lanna
. I’m alive and well. If Varne has survived
your warning, he will surely stop any Death Rider who even thinks to attempt me
as a mark. Rest now, and don’t worry for me. I am not the one who has assassins
crawling out from behind every last stone.:
:Is
Varne all right?:
Rhaekhar squatted down beside his
nearest Blood. Varne’s eyes were open, his face pale and shaken, yet he managed
to glower. “Great Vulkar, was that Khul’lanna? How did she do that?”
:He’s
fine.:
Deliberately, he laughed and wrapped his arms
around her through their bond, swamping her with love and warmth.
:Later, when you are curled up beside me in
our tent, I want to hear all about this Dream. Now, I want you to get some
sleep. All will be brighter on the morrow.:
:If
you die…:
Her bond shattered with pain, as dark and vicious as
Gregar’s Shadow had ever thought to be.
:I
can’t bear to lose you, too.:
:You
will never lose me. Did you lose Gregar?:
Shame twisted her stomach as sharply as
the Blood’s ivory
rahke
.
:I hurt him terribly. I was so angry. He
said there was nothing he could do.:
Cold dread crept over his heart. If
Gregar admitted there was nothing he could do, the formidable Shadowed
Blood…then perhaps her premonition was true.
:Gregar has never left you. You Dream him at will. Vulkar forbid, even
if I am called home to His Clouds this very night, I, too, will wait for you to
close your eyes every night. Fear not,
na’lanna
. Not even death can keep me from you.:
She wasn’t reassured. They both knew
that Dreams of Gregar were not as precious and wonderful as those few days he’d
joined them in Khul’s blankets with both warriors’ full attention devoted to
her pleasure.
:I’ll
follow as soon as I’m able. I won’t wait three days unless absolutely
necessary.:
:If
that will ease your worry, then by all means, ride to me as quickly as
possible.:
He hesitated, heart aching with worry. Shivering,
she wept silently, trying not to worry him more.
:Will you not let your Blood comfort you?:
She clutched her knees tighter to her
chest, her face hidden against her legs.
:I’ll
consider it.:
He didn’t press her; she felt fragile
and shaken enough in his mind.
“Is Mama all right?” Rhyra asked.
“Should we go back, Papa?”
Rhaekhar settled back down by the twins,
drawing them into his embrace and lying back on his blanket. “She had a bad
dream. Everything’s fine.”
Anya yawned. “It must have been a very,
very bad dream. I heard her crying for you.”
* * *
GRITTING HIS TEETH, DHARMAN FOUGHT to
remain at his post. He’d never seen Khul’lanna look so lost and small, not even
when Gregar had died. She sat shivering, huddled and weeping, so unlike the
courageous, hard woman he knew so well. Every muscle in his body ached to hold
her, but if he pushed, if he forced his attentions on her now, when she was
vulnerable, would she ever forgive him?
Sal shot him a pleading look, but
Dharman shook his head, even while he silently begged in his mind—hoping some
stray thought might slide through her bond despite her reluctance to ever
listen to it.
Ask, Khul’lanna, please.
Let me hold you in my arms, safe and warm and loved.
Long moments went by. All her Blood had
edged closer. Jorah, Lew and Jahne stood ready to take his and Sal’s position.
The others formed an outer ring, their bodies facing outward, searching for
danger, but he knew they all listened, tuning toward her.
“Jorah,” she whispered.
Dharman twitched before he could
suppress it. His jaws worked, but he said nothing. Sal made a soft noise, a
half groaned breath of agony.
The golden-haired Blood looked to
Dharman, who gave him a sharp nod. The other Blood trotted to the side of the
bed. “Aye, Khul’lanna?”
“Did any of you or the servants
eliminate the vial of Keldari oil that was in my bath?”
“Nay, Khul’lanna. It’s still there.”
“Would you fetch the vial, the smoky
amber one? I need to check it.”
Jorah trotted to the bath and returned
quickly with the vial. They’d all taken turns smelling it earlier, lost in
visions of her tormenting each of them with the burning fluid as she’d done to
Khul. On the surface, it smelled very pleasant, a rather exotic spice, but
deeper, there was a wild, musky smell that Dharman didn’t like at all. It set
his teeth on edge.
She took a long deep breath to inhale
its aroma, and an unmistakable
rahke
of hunger twisted in her belly.
Dharman liked that not one bit. Who
exactly was this black dragon she’d Dreamed so strongly?
She handed the vial back to Jorah. “Put
this in my Plains trunk. I don’t want anyone to take it or use it by accident.”
“As you wish, Khul’lanna.”
She lay back on the pillows and drew the
blankets up to her chin, but she still shivered. Dharman knew without asking
that she felt chilled deep inside, where no blanket could warm her.
“Dharman.”
Relief and vicious hope surged in him so
strongly he didn’t trust his voice, so he simply moved to the side of her bed.
“Would you…hold me?”
Before his heart beat again, he had her
in his arms, her back tucked tightly against him. She held herself stiffly at
first, as though he’d start thrusting against her or removing her clothing, he
wasn’t sure which. He couldn’t help the erection beneath his
memsha
, but he politely kept his hips
away from hers. Muscle by muscle, she relaxed into his arms.
“May Sal join us?” He asked softly
against her ear. “On my honor, your very life, he shall behave.”
She gave a little nod and Sal
immediately crawled onto the bed, but he paused before touching her, awaiting
his orders.