“I am sorry,” he said, his tone sincere.
Ember frowned. What is going on with this Mortal? Why is he demanding and rude one moment, then seems truly apologetic the next?
Kaedric turned and sloshed out of the water to stand on the bank. “If you change your mind…”
“I will not.”
A half angry, half disappointed smile twisted his mouth. Without another word, he disappeared into the woods.
It wasn’t the first time someone had asked Ember to lie with him, nor was it the first time she’d turned someone down. Despite Kaedric’s comely appearance and broad shoulders, something whispered for her to beware. Her mother truly hated the man, and her father had little good to say about him. Although Ember didn’t trust Kaedric, she sensed he was at war with himself. But why?
At any rate, Kaedric was the least of her worries. The knowledge that Lochri had indeed given her the gift of fire and used Hyrrokkin’s strength to heighten it sent an arrow of dread straight through to her guts. She wetted the soap ball and began working lather into her tresses and over her arms and shoulders. It bothered her that Raya required another god’s aid in giving her the power that was rightfully hers as a Fae princess—the magic of fire that was so destructive, so deadly.
What had her brother seen in his visions that convinced their father to allow Beron to follow her? Even her mother harbored reservations, especially regarding Raya’s intentions. The answers to all of Ember’s questions remained hidden.
A different sound broke through her thoughts. She paused, blinking soap from her eyes, and discovered Dikartha disrobing on the sandbar.
“Did Kaedric disturb you?” her aunt asked.
“It is nothing that a good romp with a village whore cannot fix for him.” Ember leaned back in the water and allowed herself to float. She scrubbed the bubbles out of her hair and stood again.
“That pompous donkey’s ass,” said Dikartha. “I am guessing he feels you can—or should—rectify the loss of your mother as his wife?”
A disgusted snort burst from Ember. She placed her feet on the pool’s bottom, stood and looked over at her aunt. “Aye, and he feels I give my attention freely, so giving it to him should not be a problem.”
Her aunt’s cheeks reddened, and her eyes hardened with anger. Dikartha pulled the hair sticks from her tresses which fell down her back and over her ample bosoms. Naked, she dove into the water and emerged sputtering and gasping. “By Torr’s chariot, this water’s cold!”
Laughing, Ember splashed her aunt.
Chapter Nine
When Ember was finished with her bath, she lazed in the pool, floating about as she stared up at the bright blue sky.
“I am finished, child,” said Dikartha. “Are you not cold?”
“No, I have grown accustomed to the water. I think I will stay for a few more minutes.”
“Do not be long, dear one.”
The sound of splashing and dripping followed. Noises of her aunt dressing reached her.
“If you linger too long,” Dikartha warned, “I shall return for you.”
Ember let her feet touch the bottom and stood up. She stared across the pond at her aunt. “Do not fret so, suvrete. I will not stay much longer. It is beautiful and soothing here, and I hate to leave it.”
A look of understanding crossed Dikartha’s face. “Aye, after the past couple of days, I imagine it is a nice comfort.” She nodded. “All right, then. Enjoy yourself but do not tarry so long I start to worry. Fair enough?”
“Aye.”
Ember watched her aunt navigate the slippery rocks and then amble up the faint animal trail that cut through the trees. She flopped back into the pool, throwing her arms out and relishing the water, the sounds, and the brilliant hue of the sky. After offering a prayer to Raya to protect her family, she let herself daydream about Sarenkesh. The instant his name entered her mind, white-hot need flowed from her heart, down her torso, and into her womanhood.
It wasn’t fair that she’d been given magic only evoked through her emotions. She couldn’t even kiss Sarenkesh without the potential of killing him. But oh how she wanted him and needed to feel him thrusting into her, their bodies one.
The throbbing in her pussy grew more intense. She swam over to a large rock perched at the edge of the little waterfall. Bracing her feet against the sandy bottom, she leaned back on the stone, draping one arm over it. With her other hand, she found her soft folds and stroked them as she thought about Sarenkesh caressing her there, his tongue lapping at her depths.
Flames of lust licked at her core and wound it tighter. She imagined him sliding into her, his cock thick, hard, and pulsing with desire.
“Princess,” he whispered.
“Mmm.” She slipped her fingers into her opening.
“Princess, let me make love to you.”
“Aye,” she said.
The touch of warm hands upon her shoulders sent a lightning bolt of surprise through Ember. She whirled in the water to look up into Sarenkesh’s dark, soul-searching eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped, heart flailing wildly.
“I cannot stay away from you, Princess.” He drew her against his body, the naked length of him fueling the fire already raging in her most intimate place. “I need you, want you.”
He claimed her mouth, his tongue tickling the seam of her lips, asking for permission to enter. A moan escaped her. She kissed him back, allowed him access, and reveled in the strength and passion of his kiss as their tongues dueled. He tasted of moonbeam wine, his kiss just as heady as the liquor’s effect. Sarenkesh slid his hands over her back and down where he palmed her ass, and fingers digging. He drew their hips tightly together, his erection hard and unyielding against the soft, pliant flesh of her belly. Need flashed through Ember nearly stealing her breath. She melted against Sarenkesh, the desire to feel him inside her so intense all rationale fled her mind.
He released her mouth and trailed kisses over her jaw to her ear. “You are so beautiful, dear princess,” he whispered, “both in spirit and in body. I cannot bear to be far away from you, and the longing to be as one is all-consuming.”
The thrumming in her pussy grew stronger until Ember thought she would go mad if he didn’t part her folds and enter her now. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The cool water lapped against their bodies, and the spray from the waterfall trickled over Ember’s face. The head of his cock nestled in her opening, shooting such intense sensation through Ember she fell against Sarenkesh, head tucked into his neck.
“Ah, you are my heart, sweet Ember,” he said, desire thick in his voice.
The use of her name instead of her title heightened her craving for him. He considered her an equal and not just royalty. Wanting to show him how much she hungered for him, she let herself slide over his cock, but the moment he began entering her, another more frightening, sensation overpowered everything else.
The aroma of sulfur singed her nose. Heat flowed through her on currents of molten metal. Terrified, her passion transforming into pure adrenaline, Ember pushed away from Sarenkesh and floundered backward in the water.
“No!” She sloshed away from him and clung to the big rock. “I can’t.”
“What is wrong? What did I do?”
The bewildered expression on Sarenkesh’s face sent a pang of agony through Ember that forced a sorrowful cry from her. “My emotions are tied to my magic,” she said over the gurgle of water. “As much as I desire you, we cannot be together that way.”
“Are you telling me that every time we attempt to make love, the fire within you—?”
“Aye! You’re in danger of being killed each time you even touch me.” Tears pricked her eyes and then trickled down her cheeks. The pain settling in the center of her chest almost prevented her from breathing. “We can never be together that way, Sarenkesh. I will kill you, and then it would haunt me forever.”
He reached out, water trickling from his e
xtended fingers, and took one step toward her, but she pressed tighter to the stone and shook her head vigorously.
“Go back to the camp. Forget being with me. From now on, we can only be comrades who fight at each other’s sides.” The anguish those words caused her hurt more than anything had in her entire life. “Please, Sarenkesh,” she croaked. “Just go.”
He swore in his native tongue, the tone of his words rife with pain and anger. Sarenkesh turned and waded out of the pool. He quickly dried himself, then pulled on his clothes and boots.
“There has to be a way, Princess,” he said without facing her.
“If there is,” Ember replied, her throat so tight she thought it would shatter, “then Raya has kept the remedy a secret.”
Without a backward glance, he leaped across the stones and strode up the faint path.
Once he was gone, Ember let her tears flow freely. She didn’t want to be a Daughter of Trinity. The one thing she wanted most could never be hers.
After an evening of hurt-filled looks tossed across the fire from Sarenkesh and a night of little sleep, Ember rose the next morning stiff, exhausted, and full of resentment. She went about rolling up her bed and packing her things as her very soul felt like it would dissolve.
“Dear child, what is wrong?” Dikartha asked as she led her horse up to wait next to Hoggr. “You act as if the world has just ended.”
“The whole world of magic is what is wrong.” Quickly, she leaped on top of a big stone and used it to reach her steed’s saddle and tied her bedroll to it. “I just want this journey over so I can return to the palace.”
“Do you want to—?”
“No, suvrete, I do not want to talk about what is bothering me.” Upon seeing her aunt’s wounded expression, Ember softened her tone. “I am sorry, dear one. It is a matter of the heart, and it pains me to dwell upon it.”
Immediately, Dikartha’s attention shifted from her to Sarenkesh as he kicked dirt over the fire’s glowing embers. “Ah, I see.”
Fearing her aunt would misunderstand, Ember quickly said, “No, you do not see. I have always been a free spirit. Now I am confined to serving only two things: Raya and my power. I do not like it, and I do not want this magic.”
“This coming from the one who lamented the fact her power had not yet surfaced?”
Annoyed, Ember glowered at her.
Dikartha smiled. “May I offer a suggestion?
She met her aunt’s gaze.
“Perhaps you should focus on completing this journey, and then the other matters may resolve themselves all on their own.” She offered Ember a knowing smile. “Mayhap your power will be under control by then.”
Her aunt’s words made sense. Nodding, Ember struggled up onto Hoggr’s back. “Thank you, suvrete.”
“The world of the young is full of many emotions, child. Enjoy them. Once you find a mate and have children, your worries shift and become a thousand fold stronger.” Dikartha turned and climbed onto her steed’s saddle.
Sir Hestbone motioned for Ember to follow him. She gently dug her boot heels into Hoggr’s sides, urging him onward. As she passed Sir Greensleeve, he glanced up at her.
“Good morn,” she managed, the pain in her heart turning white-hot.
“Princess.”
That one simple word shot an arrow of despair into Ember’s soul.
The cool of dawn gave way to the heat of late morning as Ember led everyone across the countryside and into the outer village of the Southlander city, Galen. Upon seeing the band of travelers, curious murmurs rippled through the crowd of onlookers.
A peasant woman stood on the edge of the dusty, litter-strewn street. Ember nodded to her as she rode by on Hoggr. The woman returned her greeting, a slight smile on her face, but the expression shifted into one of fear. She pointed at Ember and screamed, “Daughter of Trinity!”
Those standing in the street pressed closer, and others rushed out of dwellings and into the streets to ogle Ember on her blue-black unicorn, its spiraling silver horn gleaming in the harsh sunlight. For the first time, what being a Daughter of Trinity really meant began eating away at her as her mother’s warning echoed in her mind.
“Ach, just what we need,” Sir Hestbone grouched behind Ember.
She turned in the saddle. “This worries me.”
“’Tis to be expected,” Sir Greensleeve stated. “We cannot avoid towns and cities all of the time.”
“Mortals make my skin itch,” the dwarf replied.
Dikartha urged her steed up next to Hoggr. As she passed Sarenkesh and Sir Hestbone, she fixed the dwarf with a stern gaze and said, “Hold your voice down! You need not make them enemies before we dismount.”
“Ach, woman! You hammer at my head like a relentless woodpecker.”
“Good,” Dikartha quipped. “However it is for naught because your head is empty. ’Tis payback for the havoc you wreak upon my nose. Why you chose not to bathe at our last camp—”
“I am not offensive,” he bellowed.
“Not any more than that foul beast you ride, no.” Dikartha heeled her horse gently to pass the dwarf’s pony and catch up with Hoggr’s great strides. “Of course, it does us no good to employ stealth when your stench warns the next town of our arrival.”
“Ach!”
Sarenkesh, Kaedric, and Beron burst into laughter.
“Be of good cheer,” said Beron. “Suvrete only baits you because she likes you. If she does not tease, then you should worry.”
“That comforts me more than you shall ever know,” said Sir Hestbone.
His pony punctuated the conversation with a fart so loud a vender grabbed one of the blankets she was peddling and fanned the air as they passed.
The dwarf patted the pony’s neck. “My sentiments exactly, my friend.”
Their banter and the pony’s antics helped lighten Ember’s heart. She laughed, leaning on Hoggr’s neck for support.
Calmer and in a better mood, she stayed close to Sir Hestbone. She maneuvered her steed through the crowd as they made their way along the narrow, winding streets of the city. Soon their current route opened up on a huge circular vender’s area with a large open-top cistern, the heart of Galen. Sunshine left columns of golden light between the two- and three-story buildings. The aroma of fresh fruit, filth, sun-baked streets, unwashed bodies, warm livestock, and cooking meat assailed Ember’s nose. Compared to Verdfauna, the atmosphere and odors of Man were foreign—and more offensive than Sir Hestbone’s personal perfume.
Hoggr plodded into the center of the city where a large community spring burbled into a pool walled in by mud bricks. Citizens backed away from the big animal and stood in small clusters watching and talking. The princess’s companions dismounted and led their steeds to drink from the walled spring. Sarenkesh approached her and held his hands out to help her down. At first, she hesitated. Although they couldn’t make love, not having any contact with him at all was even worse.
“Come,” he commanded softly. A soft smile curved his mouth. “We can still be friends, can we not?”
“Aye”—Ember swung one leg over her horse’s head—“we can be friends. I could not bear it if we never spoke again.”
“Nor could I, Ember.”
Once again, the way he said her name warmed her from head to toe. Gentleness resided in his eyes, and something bright sparkled in their depths. She slid from Hoggr’s back. Sarenkesh caught her and set her down.
“Where should we go to find the leader of Galen?” he asked.
Pointing, Ember said, “I think that’s him over there.”
Everyone turned to find a tall, dark-skinned man and his guards encircling them.
Chapter Ten
“Princess Ember of Verdfauna?” asked the Mortal. A heavy bronze crown sat upon his brow over black, glittering eyes. “I am King Zeadren. I welcome you and your companions to Galen.”
As was the custom of the Green People, Ember bent her knees and bowed her head in formal greeting. �
�Aye, I am firstborn of the Daughters of Trinity and Raya’s favored. Thank you for your hospitality, good king.”
The king motioned for her to join him. Next to her, Sir Greensleeve inhaled sharply, his grip on her arm tightening briefly. She glanced up at Sarenkesh, his expression protective.
“You will be nearby, aye?” she whispered.
“Aye.” Sarenkesh reluctantly let go of her arm.
She strode across the cobbled street and accepted the king’s proffered arm. Staring eye to eye with him, Ember saw interest in their onyx depths.
“Dine with me, Princess. I am sure your companions are hungry and thirsty.”
“Aye, it has been a long journey. A good meal is much appreciated.”
“My men will see to your horses and belongings.” King Zeadren waved his other hand, and three men hurried forward. They gathered reins and lead the steeds down one of the wide passageways.
With the citizens looking on, Ember allowed the king to escort her across the city’s center and up a flight of stone steps that exited into a small passageway. Behind her, the footfalls of her aunt and her friends echoed in the narrow confines of the bricked corridor. Another set of stairs appeared, and the king drew her up them to a wide balcony overlooking the community’s hub. After a series of doors and one more staircase, this one leading down into a great chamber, the king ushered Ember across the room and seated her at an enormous wooden table that glowed with deep red highlights.
Almost as if by magic, servants suddenly appeared bearing trays of strange fruit and vegetables.
“Help yourselves.” He settled between two men who had already been seated at the table. “Eat your fill. There is plenty of ale, mead, and wine as well.”
Ember reached for a chunk of something orange. The morsel of fruit burst with sweet flavor in her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and bit into another chunk with zeal. Cook’s black, spicy bread and orange cheese were delicious, but after several days of the same fare, the melon, braised fish, and roasted oxen even rivaled good lovemaking.
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