Keeping a hand on Kal’s muscled neck, Er’it stood back to gain his bearings. No longer adrift in a sea of charcoal and ash, he saw the path clear as day. Reminded that the others lay far enough behind that he could no longer hear them, or at least behind a wall of magic silencing them, he didn’t doubt Ath’asho threw a fit of temper worse than a mother hen.
“We have to go back for them, Kal.”
Kal pricked his ears forward then back, shaking out the tangles in his mane before he began a slow walk forward. Heading down the path winding through the trees, he walked farther into the forest and away from their friends and allies.
“Kal, they can’t get through without you.” Er’it jogged to catch up, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he realized Kal had gotten his way whether or not Er’it liked it. “Fine, but I’m telling Ath’asho this was all your fault.”
Kal made a sound reminiscent of a horse’s nicker, a subterranean chuckle as he paused and bumped his shoulder against Er’it in a wordless invitation for him to mount Kal’s back.
“No running. I haven’t ridden bareback in too long.” Grunting with the strain, Er’it hauled himself up then collapsed over Kal’s neck, gripping the thick locks of his mane to stay astride. With a groan, he admitted to the Phylix what he would not to another human. “I should have stopped. Rested. At least eaten something.”
Kal snorted and eased back into his slow walk, waiting for Er’it to gain his balance before edging into a swift lope that made the stands of trees whirl by in a drunken swerve. Nose tipped to the air, Kal followed something only he could sense. Not a scent, even a Phylix wasn’t a hound to track that way. Something else lured him on, showing him the way to go despite the indistinct path. Seemingly veering off track all too often, Kal picked up speed as he became more certain of his direction.
“We agreed no running, Kal,” Er’it hissed, holding on as tight as he dared while being jostled hard enough to make his teeth rattle around in his head.
Kal ignored him, as he was wont to do. The feathery strands of mane and tail flew out behind him as he raced along, snapping in an unseen wind, pennants of focus and determination. Ears swiveling to catch the slightest hint of a sound, it was only when Kal bared his teeth and trumpeted a challenge that Er’it’s concern overwhelmed his trust.
As soon as it began, it was over once more. Kal broke into a run, dodging the looming shapes that sped by too fast for Er’it to recognize. Banks of limbs, walls of trunks—all of it was avoided on hairpin turns as Kal gained more speed. The patterned softness of his hide grew brighter, crackling with electricity under Er’it’s hands and building energy around them until Kal glowed. A shining light soaring through the woods.
Er’it was beyond words, struck dumb by the sight but more so by the sensation. Sparks zipped between his fingers where he grasped Kal’s mane in fists, and his legs tingled with the heady charge. It seeped into his skin, down into his bones. Purging the exhaustion, the weariness melted away.
“Find her,” Er’it whispered into the shrieking wind pummeling him on all sides. Leaning low over Kal’s neck, he sought to make them move even faster. “Find her. Whatever she is, whatever she means for my destiny, Iwillhave her back.”
Chapter 3
Aida
“You are a strange one.” Miyenth snickered and shoved the waterskin into Aida’s hands. Rolling her eyes with a shake of her head, she squatted down to throw another branch into the low fire.
“I’m not strange,” Aida murmured into the skin’s narrow opening, her hurt swallowed down with the bitter water. They didn’t taste it, or perhaps had grown so used to it they didn’t notice any longer. All of them laughed at her, so Aida stopped complaining. That and the dry, salted meat were all they’d had since dawn, before dawn if one counted Miyenth’s obnoxious version of waking someone—storming into Rhyn’s hut, kicking the slumbering man, and yelling at him to rise.
Not rested enough by half, tormented by dreams of Er’it, his brilliant topaz eyes, and the rough caress of his hands, Aida found her temper short and frayed. She’d tossed and turned until Rhyn snarled a warning at her ear and pinned her with the furs, keeping her immobile with his considerable weight and body. Aida felt she’d closed her eyes but a moment before Miyenth’s shrill voice clamored through the small hut, splitting open her head and pummeling her brains. At least she’d been given clean clothes, though they were indecent. Tunic and trousers, the latter hugged her legs and backside. They were Miyenth’s clothes, it seemed, the other woman clothed much the same though the fit differed.
“Leave her be.” Rhyn held out another of those awful shreds of meat, the golden red of his raised brows catching the warming light and turning them fiery. A blatant reminder of his annoyance with Aida.
Unable to stop the way her lips twisted or the pucker of her forehead, Aida managed to mumble a thanks and take it, shoving the ragged edge between her lips to gnaw at the gamey slab. It was better than nothing, and her rumbling stomach kept reminding her she’d not eaten since the apple Maruk had fed her by the piece in the cart.
Just last night but ages ago now, she’d had no idea where they were or where Rhyn was headed, but she’d felt it like an endless gulf. Moving away from Er’it, the pull was all the stronger, and her heart was strangling itself with vivid memories whenever her attention wandered too far. It was neither fair nor right that Er’it should make her feel this way. She wanted to hate him for everything but found her thoughts circling to the odd moments when things had felt so different.
The sounds he made that calmed and soothed her. His gentle touches when he thought her unaware. Often, he stared, watching her with a heat in those predatory eyes that was not the same as the one he came at her with when he made the rich growls, the ones that made her heart flutter and her stomach flip, slick coating her thighs in response. Those moments, too, had their effect upon her, leaving her as confused and distraught as ever.
“Hoya,” Miyenth said. Voice loud and ringing, she snapped her fingers in front of Aida’s face to get her attention. “Where did you go just then?”
“What? I went nowhere. I’m sitting here.”
“Your body might have been, but the rest of you wasn’t.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“Keep telling yourself that, lovey.” Miyenth snorted another crude laugh, standing from her crouch with a snapping pop of her knees. Grunting and rubbing at her hip, she ambled over to Rhyn where he stood apart with most of his men.
Choosing to ignore all of them lest she get herself into trouble for staring again, Aida gnawed at her jerky and sipped the foul water, hating every mouthful but forcing it down. She needed to figure out a way to get a blade and carry out her plan before they arrived at whatever location they headed toward. Rhyn and Miyenth would not tell her, both making wide-eyed stares at each other when she asked. Aida wasn’t allowed to speak to the other men either, not since she had begun staring. Their twisted faces, marred by thick scars, blackened scabs, and crusted patches, were a horror to behold. The evil visage she’d witnessed by firelight grew no better under the sun’s warm rays. Each one worse than the last, Rhyn had no true explanation for it. Miyenth kept saying it was for their sins but wouldn’t clarify or expand further on it. Much like the land they now traveled through, they were gnarled and twisted, blackened by something otherworldly and ominous. Turned fetid, it was rot acting as if it were still alive.
“I don’t care what you think. You’re not taking her,” Rhyn snapped, stepping into Miyenth. The paleness of his face blotched with red, darkness seeping across his features and twisting them from smiling thief to something dangerous and mean.
“She could tell us what she’s worth, Rhyn.” Miyenth shrugged, calm as could be while the huge leader crowded her toward a stand of gnarled, feeble trees.
“And curse us all while she’s doing it.”
