Grace deserted her as she dismounted, stumbling to land in a rough crouch. Happy to have her feet firmly on the ground, Ashayna didn’t care if Sorntar laughed as she tripped a half a dozen steps before collapsing. Dew soaking her clothing had never felt so wonderful.
“With luck, I should be able to make a kill before our Larnkins complain about the distance,” he said aloud.
“Sure.” Complex thoughts were still beyond her.
He took a hopping step forward and rubbed the curve of his beak against her chest, knocking her back three paces and driving the breath out of her lungs. A phoenix’s idea of affection left something to be desired. She rubbed at her aching breast bone.
“You loved flying, admit it.” His beak gaped with mirth.
“Love is a big word.”
He didn’t give her time to continue the argument. With a series of powerful wing beats, he took to the air.
She tracked him as he flew between steep slopes to hide his approach from prey in the valleys below. He was magnificent. He flew in a smooth glide, harnessing the wind to do his bidding. She continued to stare long after he was out of sight. Finally, she looked away to see what she could do to distract herself from the hollow, empty feeling in her heart.
Kicking loose pebbles and a few larger stones with the toe of her boot, she cleared a space to build a fire. Once she had it burning merrily, she sat down to wait. After a short time, her Larnkin’s first tinge of warning told her she was too far distant from Sorntar. The first shallow throb was followed by a second and a third, but true to his word, Sorntar crested the nearest peak, preventing a fourth stronger pain from manifesting. Ashayna stood up to wait for him.
He carried a large tri-horn deer in his talons. Even before he landed, his thoughts invaded hers, and for once she was glad of them.
Sorntar dropped the carcass, and it landed with a thick smack in front of her. He hopped back two paces, giving her time to slice a chunk of meat for her own meal. When she was finished, Sorntar returned to his kill and tore into the meat.
Hunger. Satisfaction. Blood-taste, warm and metallic.
Staggered by the sudden assault of his hunger and blood lust, Ashayna floundered, battling to regain control. Sorntar slammed up a shield. The stream of emotions cut off so fast she could almost have thought she’d imagined them. She gave him a questioning look. “I’ve glimpsed much more private thoughts…and you hide these ones. Why?”
“You’re not ready.”
“I’m a scout, I’m sure I’ve seen worse.”
“Strong emotions are easily shared and one mind can accidentally overpower another. Did you really want to feast on raw meat?”
“Ah. I’ll be over here.” She hastily nodded to the sun-warmed rock next to her small cooking fire. She arranged her midday meal over the fire, and then sat back and watched Sorntar reduce the deer to bone shards.
After eating, Sorntar spread his wings slightly and settled on the ground to rest. She reclined just beyond his shadow to better enjoy the warmth. There they lazed for many candlemarks, with the breeze blowing in hair and feathers.
When at last the sun was at the horizon and the breeze had begun to blow cool, Sorntar stood and stretched. He extended one wing in her direction. She acknowledged his invitation with a smile and climbed up on his back.
Chapter Sixteen
Dark shadows of a distant tree line marked the end to the Sea of Grass, the great plain where much of the santhyrian nation resided. For more than four days, grass and more grass of every shade imaginable had filled Ashayna’s sight as Sorntar sped through clouds in his immense bird form, his wings slicing through the air, propelling them towards the eastern horizon.
Six-and–a-half days ago they had set out from Grey Spires to visit her family. The official reasons—so Sorntar could show that Ashayna had been treated well and reinforce the peace treaty. In truth, Ashayna doubted Sorntar’s mother cared about the Empire. Queen Talnarra wanted them out of the city, saying others, besides councilors she knew, might wish Ashayna harm. Shadowdancer, Summer Flame and Winter’s Frost had left a few days earlier to deliver her letters to Lamarra and Sorsha. Ashayna had made them promise not to tell her family she was coming for a visit. She wanted it to be a surprise.
The first three days of flight were full of wonders. Ashayna had never dreamed a forest could be so beautiful viewed from above, or a waterfall could kick up mist so high it sparkled among the clouds. Rivers had their own elegance as they snaked across the land, cutting the landscape into strange designs at their whim. Yet by the third day she’d been pleased to see the scenery change. The grass plain had been a new marvel. Great herds of beasts roamed the grass seas, with predators ghosting along behind. The wind here was a presence. It could be seen ruffling the grass lightly in a playful manner one moment, then the next whipping it up into raging motion, so it looked like its namesake.
Now the green seas were calm, only stirring when Sorntar dipped low in a game to alleviate boredom. After six days of near constant travel Sorntar, too, must be tiring of their long journey.
She looked ahead at the trees. What had been dark shadows moments before, continued to grow in size until she could see individual branches. Three more forceful beats of his wings and they were well into the forest.
“How much longer will you fly?”
“Just a little ways farther until the first clearing large enough for me to land. I wish to sleep among the trees tonight.”
She had grown more familiar with their mental link and could control what thoughts and emotions she wanted to reveal. Though sometimes, if tired or concentrating on something else, Sorntar would get much more than she intended.
A sudden shift in his wings snapped her out of her thoughts. With a slight folding of one wing, he began to circle lower.
The clearing stretched out beneath them, flanked on one side by a slow moving stream with rocky banks. After a few paces, the riverbed looked like it smoothed out into a beautiful sandy bottom.
“This place has a likely look to it.” A slight rasp marked some of Sorntar’s words, but otherwise they were clear.
“That stream looks lovely. Oh, to be able to take a proper bath again.” She laughed in real joy at the thought. Twice while traveling across the Sea of Grass they had been forced to camp where there was no body of water large enough to bathe in.
The familiar, jarring motion of landing came as a welcome occurrence. Once Sorntar was on the ground, Ashayna unhooked herself from the harness and jumped down, landing on shaking legs. With regret, she realized the long-awaited bath would have to wait a little longer. Sorntar required help removing his harness, and the tent and cooking fire needed building, plus, someone had to hunt for tonight’s dinner. Ashayna sighed as she began stretching the kinks out of stiff muscles. Flying was faster than riding horseback, but it wasn’t any easier on the body.
After freeing Sorntar from his packages and harness, she pitched their tent and prepared a fire ring. While she was arranging stones, she stole a few glances in Sorntar’s direction, where he stood reducing some tree limbs into manageable sized pieces for the fire. Sorntar leaned down and closed his beak around the last sizable chunk of wood. With a crack, the limb shattered into three pieces. He spat out splinters and vigorously rubbed sap off his beak on a nearby tree. He paused. Feathers along his head and neck fluffed, his eyes took on a distant look, and then he curved his head back over his shoulder and began to groom.
After retrieving her hunting bow, Ashayna went to sit with her back braced against a tree while she waited for Sorntar to finish grooming. She unwrapped her bow from its protective oil cloth and strung it with a line of gut. A glance in Sorntar’s direction showed him still working on the primaries of one wing. He finished those and started on his chest feathers. He left his tail to last, and, with a shake that sent a powdery dust flying in every direction, he smoothed his feathers back into order and approached her. She’d learned on a past occasion the powder was part of what
enabled a phoenix to burn.
“Do you wish to go hunting now?” His words were uncomfortably loud with his beak less than an arm’s length away. He made a grab for her braid with his hooked bill, but missed when she flung it over her shoulder.
“I’ve been waiting on you for half a candlemark.” She stood up, pushing his beak out of her way.
“Excellent. You’re so very good at scaring game into the open. I don’t know how I hunted before.”
“You had to work for it, you great lazy bird.”
Ashayna had known his predator’s bloodlust and thrill for the hunt were greatly increased since he had taken on his true form, but she still found it odd to think this giant bird was the same person she had bonded with. There were other differences besides the obvious: he was much more relaxed, as if the concerns he had in his hybrid form did not survive the transformation. Within the first day of travel, she had discovered a playful side to his personality.
“I can’t have you insulting my hunting skills. I can stalk my prey as well as any lupwyn.”
“Prove it.”
Her reply had barely left her lips before the intense heat of his Larnkin’s power fanned along her skin. Ashayna doubted if she would ever get used to the dizzying effect of seeing his large bird shape melt into the familiar form she loved. Sorntar took a pace towards her, a spark of amusement brightening his eyes. She took a half step back, slamming her wooden bow across his chest to stop his attempt to instigate mutual grooming.
He wrapped his hands around her bow and tried to tug her closer. She jerked it out of his grasp. A sour grin graced his lips for a half a breath before his expression changed to a much more mischievous one. “So, my slow land-bound bondmate, shall we see which one of us makes a better tracker?”
“While I may lack wings, I’m not slow. I’ve been tracking game in forests since I was a child. The forest is my element. We’ll see who’s slow!”
With a shrug and a grin, Sorntar vanished into the surrounding undergrowth. Ashayna yelled in mock anger and gave chase. Her eyes adjusted to the gloomy shadows, and she scanned the forest for movement, seeking his trail. A tree with one fresh scratch, sap only now beginning to well up, gave away Sorntar’s route.
For the better part of a candlemark Ashayna followed a small stream down river, scanning game trails for any recent activity. A rustling ahead revealed an animal’s presence. Sorntar was too skilled to make such noise, besides she was certain he was still in the trees somewhere above and to the left. Fitting arrow to bow she paused with muscles loose, waiting for her unknown prey to move out from behind cover and make a target of itself. Even Sorntar could not leap down upon it while it rooted in the underbrush beneath the large oak.
A juvenile boar, one of last year’s offspring, trotted out into the open. Ashayna drew her bow in one fleet motion and released. The arrow flew true to its mark, piercing the pig’s heart even as Sorntar dropped onto its back. Sorntar vented one scream of anger for missing the kill.
“That’s my kill, get off.” Ashayna laughed at his glower, while she forced him back with the tip of her bow.
“I found it first,” he said in an offended tone.
“Well, my arrow killed it, so by rights it’s my kill. Now move.” She jabbed him in the ribs to hurry him along when it looked like he might balk at her command. Reluctance in every line of his body, he moved a couple paces off. Ashayna drew her knife to begin butchering the carcass.
“Since you stole my kill, I’ll need to find another way to alleviate boredom.”
Before she knew it, her world became one of blue feathers and the taste of last year’s leaves, as she rolled across the trail. The scent of Sorntar, moist earth, and leaf litter clogged her nose with each breath. Sorntar still had her arm locked behind her back when they came to a stop. Breath exploded from her lungs in a deep wheezing cough.
He leaned in closer. With his chest pressed to her back and a knee to each side of her hips, he effectively held her pinned. Ashayna could feel his breath across her ear and cheek even though she couldn’t turn her head to face him. So, he wanted to play, did he now? She let tension leak out of her muscles and felt Sorntar’s guard slip as he, too, relaxed. He shifted and released her arm, his palms coming to rest flat on the ground, one on each side of her head. Ashayna smiled, glad Sorntar couldn’t see it. She rolled onto her back and stared up into his questioning gaze, completely unconcerned that she was still trapped within a cage of Sorntar’s limbs.
He returned her gaze, though his expression was mildly perplexed. “Ash, you do know the entire idea of hand to hand combat is to best your opponent by any means necessary. You’re not supposed to surrender without a fight. If you’ve already forgotten that much of your training, Caltanwyn is going to be less than happy.” His eyes, a hand’s span from hers, were shadowed with uncertainty and a little lust.
“I thought we might explore some other pursuits.” Finding his hand, she intertwined her fingers with his and guided him to her breast. She could feel his surprise vibrating along their bond link. His fingers flexed slightly, but he didn’t immediately fall for her trap, so she gave him an encouraging smile.
“Training is about dead last on my list of things I want to do at this exact moment.” Which was true, Ashayna reasoned.
“There’s something else you’d prefer?”
“I can think of a thing or two, actually.” Like eating and sleeping. She smiled as she began to unlace her shirt. “Besides, you’re rather handsome, in case you haven’t noticed.” Sorntar leaned closer to catch her words, his eyes locking onto what her fingers were doing. “And so very gullible.”
His eyes widened when he understood. She drove her fist into his belly, and shoved him off with a powerful kick. Sorntar stumbled backwards. His wings flared out, but he was unable to catch his balance and landed on his ass. Ashayna bolted to her feet and stood over him, grinning.
He gave her a rueful grin as he came to his feet, and then bowed. “You certainly won round one. Come, give me another chance to redeem myself.”
His impish grin had her lips curving into a softer smile. Ashayna laughed, motioning Sorntar forward. He straightened, ready to continue his attack, when a shadow detached itself from the underbrush.
At first Ashayna mistook it for another boar. Before her mind could fully understand what she saw, the wardlen broke cover and launched into Sorntar. They rolled to the side in a spray of blood and blue feathers accompanied by fierce snarls.
She retrieved her bow and raised the silver-tipped arrowhead. Cursing their speed, she continued to track them, waiting for them to slow and give her a chance at a safe shot. An alarm burned through her mind—she whirled around in time to see another wardlen leaping for her throat. Of their own accord her hands dropped her bow. Before it hit the ground, both hands began to burn with a silver fire. The wardlen, perhaps sensing its danger, tried to twist away, but the smallest tendril of her power brushed its flank. The creature stiffened, head thrown back in pain, and it shattered into bits of murky dark mist. The mist hung in the air for several heartbeats until the breeze blew it apart.
Too shocked to move, she stared dumbfounded at the place where it had been. If not for another raptor-like scream of fury from Sorntar, she might have stared at her hands in disbelief for an entire candlemark. The first wardlen had him pinned down. It ignored the blazing heat of his burning feathers, looking for other, more vulnerable, places to rip at.
Heart pounding in fear for Sorntar, Ashayna leapt into motion. At the wardlen’s side, she paused to give it time to focus on her, and then raised her still glowing hand to its flank.
“Die now.”
Her direct touch was much more effective than the accidental one and the creature vanished in a bright flash.
* * * *
The sun set as they made their way back to camp. Sorntar caught sight of the stream through the trees and decided reporting this to his mother could wait a short time more. After scanning the surroun
ding tract of forest thoroughly and finding it free of any other nasty surprises, he focused on Ashayna.
Judging by her quiet demeanor and pale complexion, she was still shaken by both the strength of her Larnkin and the violent dispatch of the wardlens. He didn’t blame her. As a first showing of power after their bonding, it was rather spectacular. She still hadn’t spoken, only dragging her share of the boar’s weight as they walked the last stretch to camp. Finally she drew a deep, shaking breath and looked in his direction.
“I’m going to go clean up.” Her voice sounded hollow. He didn’t miss the way she rubbed at the gooseflesh covering her arms.
He doubted Ashayna’s upset was purely caused by their brush with death, or having to kill the wardlen. No, it was something else. Something she wouldn’t be able to wash away. Magic.
She made for the stream, but paused and turned to him. “I’ll help you with the boar first.”
“I’ve got it. Go wash up. I’ll be along shortly.” She nodded her thanks and left him to finish butchering it. It was a good activity to keep him occupied. Better than worrying over why there were more wardlens loose, or the ease with which his bondmate dispatched creatures with a natural resistance to most defensive magic. No matter what the elders said, or weren’t saying, the evidence was stacking toward one harrowing conclusion. But there wasn’t anything he could do about that tonight.
By the time he finished with the boar, darkness had fallen, and Ashayna was still standing upon the river’s bank, looking out across its moonlit waters. “When I killed them with my power it felt right, so very right. Like I was born to dispatch them. I took joy in it…what am I?” Her voice drifted into silence. Though, the edge of horror in it still echoed in Sorntar’s ears. She sounded so lost.
“My bondmate.” He stepped up behind her, encircling her with his arms. From respect and desire, tenderness grew in his heart. When he started to undress her, she allowed him. Her outer vest was the first to go, and then he tugged her shirt free from the waistband of her pants. The buckle of her belt gave him trouble, but at least she held still while he fought it. Her pants were easier. When she stood before him in only a shirt, he stopped, taking a moment to discard his own clothing.
Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) Page 19