In Deception's Shadow Box Set: Book 1-3
Page 34
Chapter Six
The first feeble rays of dawn already colored the sky by the time Sorsha roused. Inside the cave it was still too dark to make out much other than the shape of the cave mouth and a few outcroppings of stone near it. But a warmth—only slightly cooler than the embers of the campfire still glowing within its ring of stones—blazing along her back and sides told her she wasn’t alone. Sweat dampened her hair and trickled down her body. A heavy weight across her waist—an arm, she discovered with a bit of exploring—held her snug while a second weight was slung unceremoniously over her lower body. A leg? Another bit of wiggling confirmed it. Yes, definitely a thigh. Presently it was entwined intimately alongside her own, totally and completely destroying even the pretense of propriety. She grinned. Not that she’d ever bothered much with respectability—she’d always left that to Lamarra. She glanced out the cave’s mouth, then back over her shoulder at what must be Shadowdancer snuggled along her back.
It was early, and her body still craved sleep, but she knew they should get moving. However, as she lay next to him, unmoving, simply basking in the heat and his pleasant male scent for a few moments more, a drowsy thought surfaced. It was nice to wake up in Shadowdancer’s arms—a touch too warm—but still nice. Wouldn’t it be lovely to wake up to his warmth during the cold winter months? Yawning, she let that thought sink in.
For a fellow who spent a rather lot of his time as a horse, he still made a very nice-looking human as well. And while he could be a touch domineering, he had better manners than many of her father’s soldiers. Her grin turned into another yawn.
It wasn’t until she was finished yawning a second time that she realized she heard a familiar rhythm drawing near.
Horses. At least two.
“Shadowdancer, there’s someone coming.”
The warm arm around her waist tightened. He grunted something unintelligible.
“Shadowdancer. Wake up, now.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. With a grunt, which transformed into a hiss, he awoke fully and raised his head to sniff at the air. “This form is so nose-dead, it will be a miracle if I don’t get eaten by some predator.”
A moment later, she felt his power expanding around them, seeking who or what was approaching them. He relaxed after several heartbeats and nuzzled her hair, pushing it away from the back of her neck. Warm lips caressed the skin there.
Too shocked to respond, she remained motionless and stupidly let him lip the back of her neck.
“What… what are you doing? Stop it. Who’s coming?”
“Summer Flame and my sister.” He sighed. “Seems they grew concerned when they realized we didn’t return last night. They’ll be here momentarily.”
“Now?” Sorsha tried to sit up, but Shadowdancer held her pinned down. His hands caressed her underneath the blanket.
“Shadowdancer, what’s gotten into you? We need to leave. We’ve already slept too long. It’s dawn. If we don’t get moving, I’ll be noticed trying to sneak back into the residence.” And the other two santhyrians were bound to notice Shadowdancer’s new form and familiarity, and come to the wrong conclusions.
“We’ll be back in plenty of time. Besides, Winter’s Frost and Summer Flame are already here.”
On the heels of his words, a flame-bright stallion ducked under the low ridge of stone at the cave’s entrance. The stallion froze when his eyes locked on the two human shapes burrowed under the blankets.
Sorsha’s cheeks burned at the other stallion’s stunned body language. His ears flicked forward and he lowered his head, nostrils flared.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Sorsha blushed at the way she’d rushed the words together.
“I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”
“Nearly so,” Shadowdancer confirmed.
Sorsha punched him in the arm. “No, it’s not. We were attacked by Lord-Master Trensler. Shadowdancer leapt into the river to escape. He saved me.”
“And for his bravery, you rewarded him with a little bed sport?”
“No, of course not.”
“Hmmm. Remind me to save you sometime.”
“Apologize to Sorsha!” Shadowdancer lunged up so quickly, Sorsha was thrown back against the floor. By the time she was looking at Shadowdancer again, he was engulfed in fiery light. When it faded, Shadowdancer was once again in his natural form. The stallion bellowed a challenge as he came down on four hooves. Summer Flame nickered in humor and leapt back, out of the cave. His laughter reached Sorsha’s mind.
Shadowdancer pursued his target while Sorsha looked on in confusion. After a moment, she heard Winter’s Frost scold both males. Sorsha wanted to thank the mare for intervening.
Trensler was out in the forest somewhere and they didn’t know where. Nor did they know when he’d strike next. She didn’t even know what he wanted. Whatever it was couldn’t be good.
Tucking the blanket around herself like a cloak, Sorsha hastily pulled on her now-dry leathers. They were stiff and smelled odd, but she didn’t care. She shoved her feet in her still-damp boots. The lining was almost wet, but chaffing was the least of her worries.
“Shadowdancer,” she called as she ran. “Shadowdancer, talk to me.”
Running from the cave, she emerged to find her santhyrian and Summer Flame facing each other. Her santhyrian? She paused when she realized what she’d just thought. But yes, it still felt right. Shadowdancer glowered at the flame-bright stud with a baneful look.
Heads high, tails arched, the two stood frozen, each awaiting the other’s slightest move to begin the battle.
“Don’t you dare!” Sorsha yelled as she walked closer. “Either of you.”
With a snort and a shake of his head, Shadowdancer relaxed and arched his neck in her direction. She tossed an arm across his back as she pressed her face against him. “Easy. Don’t fight. There’s no time. We have to worry about Trensler and figure out where he’ll attack next.”
“No, we won’t. We know where he will be.”
Sorsha frowned, not understanding.
“He’ll be where the strongest Larnkins reside. For now, that would be wherever your sister and her bondmate are. Sorntar was host to the strongest Larnkin I’d ever sensed, until I met your sister. Ashayna is equal or greater in power than the Crown Prince.”
“You think Trensler is going after them next.”
“I don’t know who or what Trensler serves, but if he’s harvesting magic for his master, it’s only a matter of time before he goes after the feast Ashayna and Sorntar represent. And if my Larnkin couldn’t stop Trensler from feeding on me, I doubt Sorntar or Ashayna’s Larnkins will fare any better.”
“Then what can we do?”
“Meet up with your sister in River’s Divide, and then contact Sorntar’s parents. We’ll do as Queen and Council commands.”
Chapter Seven
Sorsha paced back and forth in front of her sister’s fireplace.
“Would you stop?” Lamarra gestured to the floor at Sorsha’s feet. “Abusing the poor floorboards won’t help Ashayna.”
Biting back a retort so hard her jaw creaked, Sorsha spun to face Lamarra, who leaned against the corner bedpost, her hands folded demurely in front of her. If she didn’t know Lamarra so well, Sorsha would have envied her sister’s calm demeanor. But the way Lamarra cast her gaze back to the door time and again told Sorsha her sister was just as worried.
Shadowdancer and the other santhyrians had gotten back to River’s Divide to find Lamarra waiting at the gate for them. Her news was worrisome. Lord-Master Trensler was already within River’s Divide. Worse, he was in a private meeting with General Stonemantle, Ashayna, Sorntar, and a number of the General’s closest advisors. There’d been no way to get a warning to Ashayna and Sorntar about Trensler’s power, and they couldn’t reach either Ashayna or Sorntar using any of the mental pathways.
Summer Flame had been ready to knock down the Stonemantle residence’s main gate, gallop through the co
rridors until he reached the war room, and crush Trensler under his hooves. It was Lamarra who suggested the santhyrians take a less drastic approach by wandering the gardens, grazing until they just happened to find an irresistible patch of grass under the war room’s window.
Shadowdancer, Winter’s Frost, and Summer Flame had all agreed with Lamarra’s plan. So Sorsha found herself in Lamarra’s room, waiting rather unhappily for the next sketchy report.
Thanks to the santhyrians’ exceptional hearing, she already knew how Sorntar and the General had fielded Lord-Master Trensler’s questions. Periodically, Shadowdancer would touch Sorsha’s mind and inform her of how the meeting progressed. Mostly, it sounded like boring political doings. She didn’t give a gold piece about that useless drivel. She wanted to know how Ashayna and Sorntar fared. But the santhyrians couldn’t speculate beyond the fact Sorntar wouldn’t be so calm if he thought his bondmate was in danger.
For that matter, Ashayna wasn’t subtle if those she loved were in danger, either. And Sorsha was willing to bet her sister loved her Phoenix bondmate, even if Ashayna hadn’t realized it herself yet. Ashayna was stubborn beyond belief.
“A trait that seems to flow through all those with Stonemantle blood, little mane ornament.”
When Shadowdancer’s mind merged with hers, she immediately released the breath she’d been holding. Only then realizing just how scared she’d been.
“Shadowdancer, what news?”
“Sorntar and Ashayna are safe. The meeting is over and they’re on their way to see you.”
“Thank the Light. What else?”
“Sorntar is going to contact his mother. He’ll get called back to Grey Spires; the Queen can’t risk her son remaining here. Not after what we’ve discovered. Sorntar and Ashayna are concerned for you and Lamarra.”
“I’m concerned for me too.” Sorsha joked with a humor she didn’t feel. “And Lamarra… and every other soul in River’s Divide. I don’t know what Trensler is, but I know evil when I feel it.”
“I won’t leave you.”
Sorsha’s heart did a funny little skip at Shadowdancer’s words. Did he mean more by them than protecting his new friends?
She didn’t know, and wasn’t given the chance to find out, even if her new uncertainty hadn’t stopped her from asking. There was a soft knock on the door and then it was opening. Lamarra rushed forward and embraced Ashayna before Sorsha had even fully registered two others now stood in the room with them.
Ashayna returned Lamarra’s hug a bit belatedly, but with genuine love. When Lamarra finally released her, Ashayna walked over to Sorsha. They hugged fiercely, and then her oldest sister returned to Prince Sorntar’s side. Ashayna crossed her arms and inclined her head in Sorntar’s direction.
The phoenix tilted his head to the side, the feathers of his crest raising a handspan before they flattened again. His tight-lipped expression showed his unhappiness.
“I don’t know what Trensler is,” he said at last, meeting Sorsha’s eyes. “But he’s dangerous. Shadowdancer explained what happened to you on our way here.”
Sorntar winced and massaged his temples, fingers disappearing up into his indigo crest. The phoenix’s dark bronze skin seemed stretched tight over his cheekbones and his eyes looked sunken. Overall, Sorntar’s normal, breathtaking handsomeness was marred by what Sorsha would call extreme weariness.
Sorntar sighed and dropped his hands. They rubbed along his leather kilt in a half-conscious manner, as if trying to rub away whatever residue Trensler had left behind. Sorsha thought she knew how Sorntar felt. Unclean. Tainted. And, somehow, less.
“He feeds on power,” Sorntar said. He paused, grabbed a chair and turned it so he could sit on it backwards. He shifted his wings and fanned his tail out as he settled, resting his folded arms upon the back of the chair. “I’m familiar with some of the creatures of darkness that feed on magic, but I don’t know them all. More concerning is my Larnkin’s new dormancy. He had been waking, my powers growing. Now there is very little sense of awareness from him. Whatever Trensler did weakened my Larnkin enough that he returned to sleep. And whatever can do that to something as powerful as a Larnkin is best left to the Elders.”
“Shadowdancer and I experienced something similar as you described before Trensler tried to kill us.” Sorsha swallowed with difficulty, her mouth suddenly dry as three-day-old bread. “We couldn’t even talk to each other using mind-speech.”
“I had trouble reaching Ashayna’s mind,” Sorntar mused. “But she seemed completely unaffected by Trensler.”
Ashayna snorted. “Unaffected wouldn’t be the word I’d have used, but yes, Sorntar’s right. Whatever Trensler was doing didn’t affect me to the extent it did the rest of you. Something about him has always set my teeth on edge, but I’ve never felt drained. Then again, maybe it’s because my Larnkin is a bit of an oddity all on its own.”
Sorntar mumbled something under his breath and looked like he was planning on launching into an old conversation. Ashayna waved him to silence. “We need to deal with Trensler. I’m not leaving here without Sorsha and Lamarra. They both have magic and the acolytes already know that. It’s too dangerous to leave them behind when we go.”
“Don’t worry. We won’t leave them behind unprotected.” Sorntar’s voice softened, and he focused on his bondmate as if she was the only one in the room. “Come here.”
Sorsha suddenly felt like she was intruding on something private.
Ashayna paused for a long, awkward moment, but she went to Sorntar. He took her hands in his and pressed a kiss into each palm. When Ashayna closed her eyes and released a loud sigh, magic flooded out across the room, tingling against Sorsha’s exposed skin. A soft smile touched Sorntar’s lips, and the love he had for his bondmate was obvious to everyone in the room except the one he directed it at.
Once again, Sorsha was envious of her older sister. Ashayna, who hated magic and wanted nothing but to serve as a scout in the army, had been given a wondrous gift and an opportunity to do something great. Yet by her sour look, she despised her magic and barely tolerated her bondmate. Ash, you’re an idiot. If I’d been given such power and something as special as a soulmate, I wouldn’t be regretting it or cursing my fate, Sorsha thought to herself. She glanced out the window and imagined what her life would be like if Shadowdancer was host to her Larnkin’s other half, her bondmate.
No, if Shadowdancer looked at her with such love in his eyes, Sorsha wouldn’t deny that gift. But he didn’t, and he probably never would.
Sorntar took a couple deep breaths then looked up, studying first Lamarra before letting his eyes settle on Sorsha. “After hearing our news, my mother wants us to return.”
“You were able to talk to her?”
“Yes. A phoenix is capable of long-range mind-speech the same as a santhyrian. Though, among my people, there needs to be some familiarity—family or the special bond of friendship. My mother was very clear with her instructions. Sorsha, you and Lamarra will be guarded by the three santhyrians and will join your friends, Beatrice, Roan, and Old Mother, to await the arrival of the Elders. They’ll be coming by Gate and will be here shortly. Once here, the Elders will observe Trensler and his acolytes to see if they can find out what he calls master. If they can deal with this situation without damaging the peace treaty, they will. If not... you and Lamarra will already be with Old Mother and her grandchildren.”
Sorntar turned his attention to Lamarra. “To prevent suspicions, Ash and I will return to Grey Spires as planned. If the Elders report Trensler is more than they can handle alone, the santhyrians will spirit you both off to the safety of the herd.”
Sorsha thought how she’d always felt safe with Old Mother and her two grandchildren. Before Trensler had attacked her, the forest had seemed like a second home. Now it didn’t. Trensler wielded too much power and nowhere seemed safe. She’d just have to settle for temporarily safe, she supposed.
“If something does happen and Lamarra a
nd I are forced to leave, I want Old Mother, Beatrice, and Roan to come with us immediately. I don’t trust the acolytes. If they can find Shadowdancer and me in the forest, they can find Old Mother.”
Sorntar nodded. “My mother is in agreement.”
“Excellent.”
“It’s settled then,” Sorntar said, sounding unhappy at having to tuck his tail and run. She understood his pride. She didn’t like the fact Trensler could drive her out of her home either. But they couldn’t assassinate Trensler and every other acolyte without starting a war.
Chapter Eight
From his cliff-side perch, Trensler gazed down upon the port city of River’s Divide as it stirred awake for the day. Even situated halfway up the rocky slope, he still couldn’t escape the ocean breeze, its briny essence quick to permeate every surface—be it skin, fabric, or animal hide—with equal abandon until everything held the same ripe scent of salt, seaweed, and fish entrails.
Trensler wrinkled his nose at the heavy scents of mortality. The cries of sea birds and merchants selling their wares broke the early dawn silence, adding to the patchwork chaos below.
The farther from the docks one traveled, the fainter the smell of salt and fish became. But only in the fields far inland and the wilds beyond could one be truly free of the odors altogether, he had learned. He frowned with distaste.
Soon, he’d be free of the rank scent of mortality altogether if he continued to serve his master well. But not just yet. There was business to attend to again today in the port settlement.
His gaze trailed across to where the great townhouses of the privileged stood on the far side of the harbor, away from the docks and smells of fishing. On one prominent hill, overlooking its lesser cousins, sat the Stonemantle residence. Its courtyard was awash with the day staff arriving and soldiers busy with various tasks.