The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (8 page)

Yes, she was going to be Lady of Toryn, but probably
only for a week or two until they found someone better. That didn't mean she
had to spend all her free time poking her nose in old tribal customs and boring
herself to death. And Ashlyn would rather fight off a dozen of the foot-sized
alligator monsters that prowled the Cosmean borders than show up bleary-eyed
and unfashionable to the Festival.

A girl had her limits, after all.

And all this researching hadn't afforded Ashlyn any
time to ponder over what the strange man had said to her earlier at the inn. As
much as Skye irritated her, she knew his intentions were always honorable, and
she also knew that there would have to be one heck of a good reason for him to
join in on a war.

But Devlyn offering her co-Leadership of Toryn? That
didn't sound like the plan of a madman bent on world domination. It sounded
more like someone who was in over his head and wanted some assistance in
straightening the mess out. If Ashlyn could get in as co-Leader, at least
temporarily, then this war wouldn't have to take place at all. She wanted that
more than anything...but she wasn't esure about this man she'd only just met,
especially considering the three attacks she’d survived in the last year.
Somebody wanted her dead, and Ashlyn wasn’t entirely sure that somebody wasn’t
Devlyn.

After edging out of the library and climbing down the
ladder leading up to the mayor’s house, Ashlyn jogged easily down the stairs,
glad that all her fighting and training had kept her in shape well enough to navigate
the endless climbing at Cosmea. She ducked into the small rooms around the
weapon shop and continued, hardly stopping to wave at the owner as she stepped
outside again.

It was there that she paused, peering over at the
Endless Flame with renewed interest, wondering why the hell Drake Lockhart
would be sitting in front of it, staring dully into the flames while the rest
of FLD sought out weapons and stanes.

Well, the staring dully part was pretty much a given.
After all, Drake was about as interesting as a pile of pony dung. But Ashlyn's
curiosity won out. Maybe he'd had a fight with Trace, or maybe he was actually
enjoying his solitude- which meant she had no qualms about interrupting it.

"Hi, Drake," she said, plopping down next to
him and using one hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "How goes
it?"

"Have you already tired of researching with
Aik?" he asked, typically evasive.

"Duh. I’m only eighteen. I'm pretty sure I have
no business sticking my nose into a book that's at least twice my age." She
pulled one knee up, propping her elbow on it as she stared openly at Drake.
"So it's probably been a while since you've been back here to see the
Endless Flame, huh?"

He nodded. The flame reflections danced across the
sunlit, angular planes of his face, shards of light upon light, as he glanced
at her. "I have had no desire to travel extensively since Lord Angelo‘s
defeat."

She waited for a moment, wondering if he would
continue and explain why she’d seen him at North Camp Inn last year, but in
true Drake form, the cryptic sentence was all he was saying. It was hard to
stay mad at Drake in the flesh, she realized, and wondered just how dangerous
it would be to get close to him this time, and have to say goodbye again
afterwards.

"I know what you mean," she said finally.
"I really wanted to settle down, too, find a place where I could
just...relax for a while. Take the time to find out what I want to do with my life,
who I want to be." Ashlyn sighed, drawing her knee up closer so she could
brace her chin against the heel of her newly-healed hand. "At least you've
found peace, right? And you're what, eternally twenty-nine? Even though you
look so much younger. That means I can hope to figure out my life sometime in
the next ten years, if you're any example to go by."

"I'm not," he said.

"Not what?"

"An example to go by," he said patiently.
"I've done things I'm not proud of."

"Oh." She paused, deliberating. He was
expecting her to say something about his past, which even after all this time
he obviously still hadn't come to terms with. But Ashlyn wasn't going to give
him the satisfaction of sympathy.

"Yeah, I'm definitely not going to look to you
for fashion advice, that's for sure. The vampire guise is kind of freaky, or at
least it was for me until I got to know you. Maybe you should think about
changing your look or something. You might be scaring off potential customers
at your weapon shop."

Expecting at least half a smile, Ashlyn deliberately
chose not to acknowledge what she thought he was really talking about- his
years as one of Lord Angelo‘s Spartan assassins, his affair with an Angel, Lord
Angelo‘s discovery of the betrayal…and more recently, the years he spent pining
in a coffin after he thought he had killed his own lover, the Angel named
Loritta.

Ashlyn was one of the few who didn't feel sorry for
Drake and never had, and although it might have seemed callous, she suspected
that eventually he would appreciate her flippant attitude towards his
tumultuous past.

Her ridiculous ramble got what she'd been looking for.
Drake threw her one of his rare grins, and as always, it was like dawn breaking
on his face. Ashlyn grinned back, pleased with herself.

"How did you know I owned the weapon shop?"
he asked.

"Word gets around. Well, actually, it gets around
by way of Restlyn, but I'm sure anyone else would have told me."

She remembered the cold, rainy night that she and the
others had faced Lord Angelo and defeated him, the painfully void expression on
Drake's face when he had discovered that Lord Angelo had been responsible for
Loritta’s demise. She recalled in explicit detail the agony that rang in his
voice when he realized out loud that someone else should have suffered the
twenty years of nightmares.

Funny, how things worked out. She'd spent their entire
journey trying to get through to Drake, and it had taken a revelation like that
to give him a personality that was something like human.

"I'm glad you didn't go back to the mansion in
the Eastern Canyon," Ashlyn said absently, toying with the end of her
braid as she stared into the fire. "For years I had all sorts of stupid
visions of you sleeping in that nasty coffin, gathering dust and cobwebs and
who knows what else. I finally went there to make sure, just for some freaking
peace of mind." She frowned as she encountered a particularly nasty snarl
in her hair, and pulled her fingers through it, annoyed for the first time at
the lack of care that she showed the silky locks.

"Restlyn asked for assistance with the
tavern," Drake said, volunteering information that Ashlyn hadn't asked
for. "It seemed natural to stay afterwards." He raised his head, eyes
narrowing. "Is that the man who spoke to you at the inn?"

She didn't answer, busily remembering their parting
after the fall of Lord Angelo and the destruction of the final power plant that
had been draining magic from the sun. It had been uneventful, less dramatic
than she would have liked. She'd grinned up at Drake, saucily asking if he had
any stanes he was willing to part with. He'd pressed a
theft
stane into
her hand, turned and walked away as if they had nothing at all to say to each
other after living in close quarters, fighting side by side and nearly dying
together for more than a month.

When she'd looked down at the stane, which transformed
its wielder into a master pickpocket, she had burst out laughing. Drake may not
have cracked jokes very often, but when he did it was well worth the wait.

If only she’d told him how she felt after defeating
Lord Angelo. Instead she'd had to wait to see him at North Camp
Inn…ridiculously happy without her.

"Ashlyn?" he questioned when she stayed
silent.

"Huh?" She glanced at him, frowned as she
followed his gaze to the Cosmea entrance. A man stood at the head of the stairs,
staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. "Oh. Yeah, I
guess it is. I didn't think he'd be hanging out to keep an eye on me, for
crying out loud."

"Is he a friend of yours?" The real
question,
Who is he,
was underlying Drake's words, his manner of
speaking bordering- but not quite- a monotone.

Yeah, some friend. She didn't even know his name.
"Just a loyal fan. You know, ninjas like me, we're famous."

Pointed look with those ruby eyes. "Elder Heirs
like you can be famous as well."

"Well, yeah." Ashlyn shifted uncomfortably,
glaring daggers at the stupid man for putting her through this conversation,
for making her lie to Drake.
Drake,
of all people! The guy who really
didn't give a crap about anything, and she was fibbing to him. "I just
hope he doesn't figure it out. But what can I say to him? 'Hi, glad to meetcha,
don't ask me to tell you my name.' It's hard to be subtle about that sort of
thing."

"Yes, I would imagine so." Drake looked
keenly at the man for a moment longer. "Perhaps I could explain to him
that's it's impolite to intrude on private conversations."

That'd be just
super.
Ashlyn searched for something to say in response, and fell back on her inherent
ditziness to save her.

"Aww, Drake! We're having a
private
conversation?" she blurted out desperately, choosing the only thing that
she knew would truly scare him. "That's one step up on the ladder of love.
Next thing you know, I'll have you dancing with me at the Festival
tonight." She put a hand on his arm, batting her eyelashes dramatically.
"You will dance with me, won't you?"

He didn't react as violently as she'd expected. If
Ashlyn had asked Drake to dance three years ago, she would have gambled all her
stanes that he'd leap to his feet and hightail it outta there faster than a
top-ranked racehorse down the home stretch at the Silverbell Theme Park. Ashlyn
would have been left in his dust, giggling stupidly.

But apparently Ashlyn wasn't the only one who had
changed since the defeat of Lord Angelo.

This new, upgraded Drake met Ashlyn's eyes, showing
absolutely no signs of hightailing anywhere, and she felt her breath catch in
her throat as he stared at her. When she managed to suck in air again, she was
breathing hard like she'd just jumped off Na Michico and
swam
to Cosmea.
Drake's eyes were crimson like blood in the firelight and sunlight combined,
only not half as disgusting, not even disgusting, and holy
crap
was she
getting all hot and bothered over
Drake Lockhart?

Hastily, she tore her gaze from the red-eyed
gunslinger's, staring instead at the flame in front of her, heart pounding
noisily. "Oh, I forgot," she said, and even to her own ears her voice
sounded strained, "you don't dance, do you."

Drake was silent for a moment longer, and then he
stood.

"If you'll excuse me," he said quietly.

Ashlyn nodded, not trusting herself to speak,
listening to the muffled clicking of his boots against the dirt as he walked
away from the Endless Flame.

That
was an experience worth forgetting! Scrambling to her feet, Ashlyn stomped over
to the man who had forced her to sacrifice her dignity and hit on Drake.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed in
Toryn, shoving him up against one of the beams that supported the Cosmea sign.
"Nice attempt at subtlety, moron. Why don't you just hang a sign around
your neck that says, 'Spy for Toryn'? That is, if you don't think you're
getting the
point
across well enough!" She eyed him suspiciously.
"What's your name anyway, and what are you doing here?"

"I am Lysato Shak of the clan Shak, and I am
ensuring your safety, Lady Li," he answered, averting his eyes from her
angry glare. "Assassins are everywhere."

"I'm a ninja! Don't you think I can defend myself
against a measly assassin or two?"

"Of course, Lady, but-"

"But nothing! If you hang around like this for
the next three days, I'm going to have one heck of a time explaining it to the
rest of FLD! Now scram!"

"Actually," a voice came from behind her,
"I'd rather you stick around for a while."

Ashlyn turned on her heel and found herself staring
into inky black eyes. Skye’s expression was pinched and angry

"I can explain," she said quickly,
forgetting to switch to Merchant Tongue.

"You will. What happens in three days?" he
asked, quiet rage in his voice.

It took Ashlyn a second or two to realize her mistake,
and a split-second longer to realize that he'd responded.

Skye understood Toryn?

What had she said when she'd walked in to find him
shirtless?

Man, have I been missing out with this whole reclusive
warrior gig.

He'd been smiling.

Oh, crap.

Oh,
crap.

"Well?" he said, folding his arms across his
chest.

Ashlyn, still distraught over the shirt comment,
promptly drew a blank. "Uh..."

She was pushed out of the way suddenly by Lysato.
"Run, Lady! He means to harm you!"