Elder

by Raine Thomas

  When the Yuki-onna focused its attention on Clara Kate, Ini-herit moved up to just behind and beside her. He didn’t know why. That strong sense of protectiveness continued to drive him and he didn’t bother to resist it.

  He watched the spirit move its gaze to Clara Kate’s midsection. It didn’t look away. Why did it find this area of Clara Kate’s body of so much interest? Glancing again at the creature, he watched it clutch its phantom child closer to its chest before it shrieked and disappeared.

  The piercing wail hadn’t even faded before Zachariah surged forward and reached down for Tate. He lifted the Kynzesti as Tiege approached Ariana. Ini-herit realized both females were covered in ice, among other things. Despite the filth all over them, he could see their skin was almost blue. Not a good sign.

  They all turned around and headed back the way they’d come, leaving Uriel and his Waresti to deal with Metis, her giant and any other creatures they might encounter. On the way into the maze, several of the Waresti split off from their group to address any threats that could possibly approach them from behind. Now, Ini-herit stepped over the remains of several dead creatures, none of which he could identify. Why its creators had felt the maze required such powerful guardians, he had no idea.

  They emerged from the high hedges and hurried a brief distance away. Nothing unexpected followed them.

  “Ariana lost consciousness,” Tiege said.

  Zachariah stopped and caught Ini-herit’s gaze. “So did Tate.”

  Nodding, Ini-herit placed his hands on both Tate and Ariana. Closing his eyes, he focused on diagnosing and healing their injuries. They ranged in significance. Frostbite, extensive bruising, abraded skin, mild to moderate burns, reduced functioning of their cardiovascular and pulmonary systems, dehydration, exhaustion. One by one, he addressed each problem and applied his power until both females were once again in perfect condition.

  Well, physically, anyway.

  Opening his eyes and lowering his hands, he said, “They will be fine, but they require rest. I have induced a state of restorative sleep for them both. Sebastian should arrive soon with the others. He can assist Tate and Ariana with any cosmetic issues, such as their torn clothing and the dry clay. He can also provide them food. I believe it has been quite some time since they were fed.”

  “Thank you,” Zachariah said at the same time Tiege issued, “Thanks, archigos.”

  He nodded. When he looked at Clara Kate, he realized she was staring at him. Not for the first time, he wished he could read what she conveyed through her deep blue-green eyes.

  “We should get away from this place,” Zachariah said. “Something could slip past Uriel and his warriors and we might not be prepared to meet it.”

  Ini-herit considered this. “I will stay here. I wish to remain available in case any of the Waresti need healing.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” Clara Kate offered. She drew her blessed butterfly swords. “Couldn’t hurt to have extra hands around if needed.”

  Something about her offer had his brow wrinkling and an unusual sensation flooding his chest, but he merely said, “Of course.”

  “Very well,” Zachariah said. “We’ll move to the edge of whatever flight barrier is in place around this area and wait for the others to arrive.”

  Ini-herit watched as the Mercesti turned and started walking, followed closely by Tiege, Sophia and Quincy. When they were alone, he looked at Clara Kate. He realized her cheeks were pink.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “You appear flushed.”

  Rolling her eyes, she looked at the exit of the maze and muttered, “No kidding.”

  “Do you require healing?”

  “No, I don’t require—” Cutting herself off, she shook her head and caught his gaze. “This is absolutely ridiculous. I’m flushed because of all of the inappropriate thoughts I have when I look at you, okay? Your tank top reveals quite a bit of skin and muscle. You’re seriously cut and, well, hot. I was standing here wondering just where all of those silver markings extend on your form. So, there you go.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  After a moment, he said, “Your tank top reveals quite a bit of skin and muscle, as well.” When she lifted an eyebrow, he added, “And it conforms to your breasts.”

  Her lips twitched. “You noticed that, did you?”

  “Yes. As well as the fact that your combat pants sit low on your hips and display your rear end in a way that draws my eye.”

  Now, her entire face grew pink. “Seriously? You had those kinds of thoughts about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have those kinds of thoughts about other females?”

  Despite the mild tone to the question, he sensed its import. “No,” he replied.

  “Huh.” She grinned. “What do you know?”

  “What do I—?”

  “No, no,” she said with a shake of her head. “Look, I stuck with you right now so that I could discuss something with you. Something important.”

  “All right.”

  “Back on the human plane—” she began.

  “Uriel is approaching,” he interrupted.

  Both of them turned to look at the maze’s exit. The Waresti elder and a number of his warriors emerged. They looked grim, but none of them needed healing.

  “We were unable to capture Metis or her giant,” Uriel reported. “She teleported before we could get to her. She could be anywhere on the Estilorian plane by now.”

  “You imbecile,” Metis snapped at Cephalus.

  The two of them stood in the woods outside of the dwelling that once belonged to the former Mercesti leader, Kanika. It was the first place that sprang to Metis’ mind when the Waresti bore down on them inside the maze. She had studied this landscape a great deal in recent weeks.

  “I rescued you from the Isle of Gegenee so that you could join me in ascending to greatness,” she continued as she paced. “This is how I am repaid?”

  Having calmed down once he could no longer scent the two females who had injured him, the giant lifted his massive shoulders. “I cannot change the way things stand. I helped you assume a new form, did I not?”

  “Just how is that supposed to help us get the scroll piece?”

  As she issued the question, Metis lifted her arms, which were now those of a hulking Waresti male. She had managed to teleport the Waresti along with Cephalus out of the maze. Once they materialized in the woods, the giant injured the disoriented male enough that Metis was able to use his own sword to kill him. The decision to change forms had been panicked, prompted when she realized the Waresti intended to capture or harm her.

  Now, she questioned whether it had been the right decision. Yes, most of the Waresti knew Deimos’ form very well and would surely be looking for her everywhere on the plane. But at least in that form she could teleport if the need arose. As this Waresti, she could no longer draw on that ability. She really had to learn to make better decisions while under pressure if she was going to be an elder.

  Oh, well. At least if she met up with Eirik in this new form, she would stand a good chance of defeating him. An innate knowledge of weaponry and battle strategy flowed through her now.

  “Where have you teleported us?” Cephalus asked. “Perhaps we could return to the females and wrest them from their rescuers.”

  “We are miles from there.” Frowning, she debated what to do. “I can no longer draw on Deimos’ abilities, and you cannot fly. We will have to travel on foot.”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  “I do not know.”

  Turning, she paced in the other direction. She found herself ducking beneath tree branches more often than she had in the past and realized this was the tallest form she’d ever assumed. It would take some getting used to.

  “Well, you now resemble a Waresti,” he said. “Unless things have changed since I freely roamed the plane, you can throw a rock an
d find Waresti scouts. Perhaps we could search for such a patrol and attempt to find out where the females will be taken. Then we can travel to them.”

  Weighing the idea, Metis nodded. “That has merit. Because we succeeded in parting the females from their guards this last time, I am certain it will be difficult to accomplish it again. However, even if we cannot find a way to lead them away from the others, we could follow them when they go in search of the next scroll piece. Surely once the piece has been found, we can develop a plan to acquire it.”

  “Very well,” Cephalus said. “I am at your service. I will do what I can to balance things between us, sister.”

  “Oh, yes. You will.”

  Chapter 12

  Zachariah couldn’t put Tate down.

  He considered it when everyone sat down to await the arrival of the others. She needed to rest, and she’d probably be more comfortable in a prone position. He even bent to lay her on the ground. But he couldn’t.

  His gaze settled on her face as he paced with her in his arms. Though her bruised cheeks were streaked with clay and blood, he focused on the markings around her eyes. The deep blue-green cinquefoils with red arrows running through them matched the marking on his right bicep. The markings, even more than their shared thoughts, brought home the reality of their avowing.

  She was his.

  His to protect. His to marvel over. His to love.

  For the first few weeks after he paired with her for her protection, he waited for her to tell him that she didn’t really love him. He waited for her to admit that her feelings were a result of their adventure together and hadn’t lasted. He even devised a plan to leave with Nyx and once again remove himself from Estilorian society. Tate couldn’t possibly love a Mercesti, he reasoned, nor did a being such as him deserve the heart of one as magnificent as her.

  As though she knew his thoughts, however, Tate conveyed her love to him every chance she had. She whispered the words throughout the day, catching him off-guard more times than he could count—once right after he threw her to the ground during an intense training session. She made a point to touch him frequently, the purposeful physical contact doing more to unravel him than anything else could.

  And she listened to him, even when what he had to say brought tears to her eyes. In the dark of night, as he lay on her bedroom floor in front of the door that no enemy would ever breech, he’d told her things he never thought he’d reveal to another being. Things that even archigos Malukali didn’t know.

  Not once did Tate judge him. All she did was share herself with him, fully and unequivocally. It was all he needed. So it didn’t take much soul-searching for him to know why he didn’t want to separate from her now.

  Before she was kidnapped by Knorbis, Zachariah’s role in her existence had been to see to her safety. He had failed. As a result, Tate had suffered.

  He was still perplexed by the fact that she had agreed to avow with him, even if only in their dream state. He convinced himself shortly after her abduction that since he’d failed at the one thing he considered his strength, Tate’s love would surely falter. Yet, despite his failure, she had joined herself to him in the most significant way an Estilorian could.

  Now, he looked at her matted hair and blood-encrusted scalp, then down at her torn clothing, remembering the attack she’d endured. He’d pressed her so hard to learn to protect herself. For weeks, they had been up and training before everyone else, staying out later than everyone else. He made her change her wardrobe to be more efficient and offer less fabric for an opponent to grab. He made her wear muted colors so she blended more with the environment around her, presenting less of a target. He made her remove her usual hair adornments, knowing the colorful beads and feathers once led Eirik’s followers right to her. She had done it all, despite his dictates being more stringent than any she’d ever faced.

  But in the end, none of that had mattered. His training hadn’t helped her against Knorbis’ elixir and mental influence. It hadn’t found her a way to refuse Eirik’s blackmail demands. It hadn’t aided her in facing her attackers on her own. No being would have stood a chance against so many Mercesti. It was a miracle they hadn’t killed her.

  She would never be in that position again.

  He glanced up as movement caught his attention. The remaining elders had arrived. Before he took two steps toward the section of trees where everyone emerged, Sebastian broke apart from the others and approached him.

  “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” the elder said, his lavender eyes calm as he evaluated Tate’s condition. He lifted one of the torn straps from her tank top and gave it a thoughtful study. “This is easily repaired—”

  “I don’t want it repaired,” Zachariah interrupted. “You can burn the thing, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Sebastian caught his gaze. After a moment, he nodded. “I see. I’ll take care of it.”

  He used his abilities to remove all of the filth from Tate’s hair and skin. He changed her clothing with a wave of his hands and flash of lavender light. Then he waved his hand one more time, briefly making her hair glow. He nodded again, satisfied.

  As the elder moved to attend to Ariana, Zachariah said, “Thank you, archigos.”

  Then he stared at Tate’s face, now free of anything to mar its perfection. His chest tightened as her faint lemony scent reached him.

  Her eyelids fluttered. Seeing the movement, he carried her away from the others. She slowly blinked back to awareness, easing herself up so that she was supporting some of her weight.

  “Sparky,” she whispered, gazing at him as though she thought he might disappear.

  Once they were alone, he stopped and lowered her to her feet. She left one hand on his shoulder and lowered the other to his waist. When part of her ensemble—a shimmery wrap—fell partway down her arm, she frowned in bewilderment and looked down. She studied her new flowing sundress comprised of vibrantly colored fabric. Poking her foot out, she spied a pair of impractical strappy sandals.

  Then she reached up and touched her hair. Although she couldn’t see it, she likely felt that it was back in its usual style, completely bedecked with sparkling beads and feathers. Sebastian had added a few red beads and a couple of small braids accented with glittery red ribbons.

  “You should sleep some more,” he said, tracing her lips with his thumb.

  Both of her arms wrapped around his waist. I don’t want to sleep, she thought.

  Then you should eat. They starved—

  “Food can wait,” she interrupted. “You’re what I need right now, Sparky.”

  He knew exactly what she meant. He wanted to bask in her, in the light she brought to his dark existence. He wanted to take her away from there and keep her from the evil threatening to steal that light.

  She held his gaze for a long moment. Then she pulled him closer and kissed him.

  It was as though she offered a delectable feast to a starving being. He couldn’t resist the siren-like allure of her parted lips. Backing her against the trunk of a nearby tree, he devoured her, growling low in his throat as her tongue met his.

  The kiss quickly turned possessive. Ravenous.

  Their hands roamed, staking claim and igniting heat. The thoughts flowing between them escalated the feelings until Zachariah knew he was crossing into dangerous territory.

  Somehow, he managed to tear himself away from her tantalizing mouth. He crushed her against him as they both fought for breath.

  When they had calmed themselves, Tate reached up and ran a hand through his hair. Smiling, she said, “Thanks for asking archigos Sebastian to clean me up. Did you pick my outfit?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Uh-huh. And you gave him the go-head on the beads and feathers?”

  “He couldn’t be swayed.”

  Grinning, she said, “Liar.”

  She kissed him again. Although he knew he should resist, he indulged himself. But he didn’t allow things to get too carri
ed away this time. He pulled away from her after a moment.

  Brushing a stray curl out of her eyes, he said, “I have a promise to keep.”

  She tilted her head in consideration. Then her eyes widened. “You really want to exchange vows with me in person?”

  “That’s what I promised when you agreed to avow with me in our dreams,” he said. Then he hesitated. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Of course I haven’t changed my mind. I love you, Sparky. We can get the others and—”

  “My vow is to you, Beautiful. Not everyone else.”

  She considered this, studying him in silence. Eventually, she smiled and said, “All right.”

  He was eternally grateful that she understood him. Many other females would have insisted on having an audience for this intimate, important moment. He held her gaze to convey his appreciation. Then he spoke the vow he had issued once before.

  “I, Zachariah, wish to pledge myself to you, Tate, in every possible way. You are my world now, as well as my heart. Though it may take all eternity, I will strive to prove myself worthy of your love. I offer you this ring as a symbol of my love and my unbreakable commitment to you.”

  He lifted Tate’s hand and kissed the ring she already wore. Her eyes filled with tears. Though her voice was strained with emotion, she spoke her vow.

  “I, Tate, love you, Zachariah, more than anything in the world, and want to spend the rest of my existence with you. I offer you this ring as a symbol of my love and my unbreakable commitment to you.”

  She kissed his ring, then they linked their left hands and kissed to seal the vow. Once again, his pairing marking flared with pain, signifying the power of the exchange and their connection. Tate gasped against his mouth, telling him she experienced the same thing. Their vows were now unequivocally sealed.

  She was—to borrow the words she spoke to him after their first pairing—stuck with him.

  Once Sebastian and the others arrived, Clara Kate joined her family within the forest located a couple of minutes from the maze. Despite its terrifying properties, the maze fascinated her. How had it been created? And why? The power required to generate the anti-flight barrier had to be significant. Also, where had all of the creatures inhabiting the maze come from?