~ ~ ~
Daria stared at the figure silhouetted against the misty background of the archway. Riding astride his golden horse, short black cloak billowing behind him, Thaddis seemed so real. She could even see the lines of determination bracketing his mouth and the cruel glint in his amber eyes. As he pursued his prey across the land, a breeze riffled his auburn hair. Sunlight sparked off the medallion on his chest.
Pasinae’s work. Daria’s othersense slapped her with the knowledge.
Every muscle in her body tightened with the compulsion to run, to send her feet pounding to the thundering of her heartbeat. Instead, Daria rooted herself by curling her toes against the tiled bottom of the healing pool.
She clenched her hands into fists, trying to still her racing heart and calm the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling through her. If she didn’t best her fear and start to plan, she might as well hand herself over to Thaddis. Better yet, just pull out her knife and slit her own throat. Quick. Easy. No more suffering.
She turned back to the moving picture.
Behind Thaddis, a small cavalcade of black-uniformed soldiers rode into view. The nearest one carried a severed head on a pike.
Daria squeezed her eyes shut. Only Thaddis would be so vile. Then she made herself look, fearing what she would see. As she squinted at the head, skin shrunken over sightless eye sockets, blonde beard and hair still clinging to the skull, shudders racked her body.
“No!” Daria gasped. “No. No.” Gray sparkles edged her vision, and her knees buckled.
Khan grabbed her, holding her steady.
She sagged against him, dropping her forehead on to his shoulder, and sliding her hands around his waist. “That’s my father’s head,” she whispered, half wanting to give in to the oblivion of a faint, the other part of her knowing she needed to force herself to face her enemy.
The muscles in his chest stiffened, and he tightened his arms around her. He pressed her against him, and they stood in silence while she struggled to bring her shivering body under control.
Warmth shimmered around her othersense, seeming to emanate from Khan. Startled, she lifted her head, staring at him. The energy increased—almost as if he were sending her support on another level. Long-forgotten memories of her mother surfaced. Her mother used to comfort her in this way. But Khan’s energy vibrated with a masculine difference.
His charcoal-brown eyes held her gaze, dark and fierce. “We’ll find a way to defeat him.”
She could feel resolute strength boiling through his tall, muscular frame. Some of his belief simmered into her, bolstering her weakness of body and soul. She studied his brown, hawk-like face, drawn in spite of herself to his exotic looks.
He turned to address the statue. “If Daria hid in here, could Thaddis’s amulet still radar in, uh, pick her up?”
The statue nodded.
Khan pursed his lips, apparently thinking. He glanced down at her. “The Goddess will help us. I know it. But only what we can’t do for ourselves.”
Resentment at the twisted ways of the Deities fired in Daria’s chest. “That leaves a lot of ground to cover.” She couldn’t help the bitterness edging her voice.
“No, not really. It’s kind of like a charades game I played in England.”
The resentment bit deeper. Games. We’re just pawns to the Deities. Then the rest of what he said caught her attention. “England?”
“A country where I went to school.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“I don’t imagine you have. It’s a long story. But now we have to deal with him.” Khan pointed his chin at Thaddis. “How much time do we have ‘til he gets here?”
Daria bit her lip. “We rode about a week before we reached the ruins. We’d left behind Thaddis’s pursuit, and I didn’t think we needed to push our pace. Micfal was old and weary.
But—” she nodded toward Thaddis “—if he keeps up that speed, he’ll be here in a week, week and a half.”
He sucked in his breath. “A week!” His eyebrows wrinkled into a V. “Weapons?”
Daria set her mind to follow his thinking, ignoring the emotions roiling through her. “You’re a good shot. So am I. If we set up an ambush, we could kill or wound many of them.”
“Yes. But that might not be enough. We’ll have to do more.”
The emphasis he put on ‘we’, like their lives had become braided together, abruptly halted her planning.
Khan could be killed.
She’d been thinking like a princess—used to her father’s men, all her people, putting their lives at risk for her as a matter of course. But Khan hadn’t pledged his loyalty to their royal house. Only his love to me.
Humbleness clogged her throat, followed by determination. Daria had watched enough of her people die for her and wouldn’t risk one more man’s death. Especially one who’d saved her. One she cared for. She’d have to ride alone to Zacatlan. Surely, someone there would know how to counter the cursed medallion. She stepped away, ignoring her sense of loss when his hands slid from her shoulders. “I will not allow you to put yourself in jeopardy.”
“What are you talking about?” he said, his tone sharp.
“Too many have died at Thaddis’s hands because of me. My family, my people…Micfal…” At the thought of her brave companion, her eyes welled with tears. “Micfal the last….” She inhaled a deep shuddering breath. “If you remain in here, Thaddis will pass right by. He’ll never even know you exist.”
She clenched her fist. No one else I care for will die protecting me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Khan wasn’t sure if he wanted to shake Daria or embrace her. In the light of the statue, the tears made her eyes shine jade green. Wisps of drying blonde hair escaped from her braid and curled around her face, but failed to soften the rigid set of her jaw.
He chilled his voice, hoping to penetrate the shield she’d thrown up to block herself from him. “My life is my choice. To fight or hide is my choice.”
“No. I’m leaving. Thaddis will follow me, and you’ll be safe.”
“That is your choice. However, this is my new home. Invaders with evil in mind have to be stopped. So I’m still going to fight Thaddis. Perhaps it’s better if I don’t have to worry about your safety, too.” Just as well she didn’t know about his lack of fighting experience. Let her think of him as the valiant warrior.
Daria bit her lip.
He watched the inner struggle play across her face.
Relaxing her shoulders, she said, “Then we’ll fight side by side.”
He reached out and brushed a finger across her cheek. “Or back to back.”
“Or back to back.”
This wouldn’t do. He’d never be able to think straight if he stared at her, touched her. He needed some distance. “Are you hungry?”
“Why, yes.” She sounded surprised, as if she hadn’t noticed her hunger. “But the thought of food right now is—dreadful.”
“You’ve been through a difficult time, Daria. We have a lot to accomplish in the next few days. You need to keep up your strength.”
As if conceding his point, she gave a tiny nod. “Very well.” Daria bowed to the statue. “Lady, I thank you for my healing and for your help with Thaddis.”
Khan nodded in approval, relieved she’d addressed his Goddess. “I, too, thank you.”
The statue remained still; no voice resonated in his mind. Puzzled, Khan turned away from his lady. He hoped she wasn’t displeased. Or hurt. Or….Women! Whether human or divine, what man can ever truly understand them?
He whistled for Nika, who stood at the side of the pool.
The black stallion tossed his head and walked over toward them. Even under the light-tan covering of desert dust, the proud, sleek lines of his powerful body glowed in the Goddess’s illumination.
Khan heard Daria catch her breath. “What a magnificent creature. I’ve never seen a horse like him.”
Nika nuzzled Khan’s shirt.
Khan caressed the stallion’s nose. “He’s an Arabian. I brought him with me when I came to live here.”
“May I?” Daria reached out to the horse.
Khan nodded. He rummaged in the saddlebag while the woman and horse became acquainted.
Daria crooned compliments to Nika, all the while stroking his head and neck.
As if understanding her, the horse lowered his head, nudging closer.
Khan smiled to himself, pleased to see them bonding. He handed Daria a cloth-wrapped packet, containing dried meat from a goat-like creature he’d hunted among the craggy ruins at the edge of the city and flat bread made from some of the last of the flour and spices he’d brought from Earth.
“Thank you.” She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. A surprised look crossed her face. “This is good. It has a different flavor.”
“Some of the spices come from my homeland.”
“Sometime I’d like to hear more about this homeland of yours.”
“When this is all over, I’ll tell you everything.”
“We’ll sit around the fire and exchange tales.” She fell silent, looking melancholy.
“Wait here,” Khan disappeared into an alcove filled with greenery. When he returned, he carried two orange orbs. He handed her a round fruit. “One of my favorites. We'll pick more before we go to take with us.”
She bit into the fruit. “Umm.” Juice ran down her fingers, and she licked them off.
At the sight of Daria’s tongue swirling over her sticky skin, heat pooled in his groin, and he had to turn away. I no longer have the right to feel this way. He tried to ignore the stab of loss.
They leaned against Nika, quietly eating.
Khan turned his attention back to the vision of Thaddis riding through the desert. Where would be the best place to ambush him? Obviously, Daria would be the bait. He hated the idea. But the man was heading straight for her anyway. Not for the first time since he’d crossed into this world, he wished he’d gone in for riflery rather than archery. What he wouldn’t give to have an AK-47. That would handle the problem. Or a little grenade tossed into the enemy’s path would do the trick.
As he swallowed the last bite, an idea hit him. “I’ll take you back to Earth. He won’t find you there.” And even if the man was able to follow her to Earth, he wouldn't make it very far when he got there.
“Earth?”
“Where I’m from.”
He could see from her raised brows that she had more questions. How would she react when she learned he was from a different planet? Dare I tell her?
The statue waved an arm to the opposite wall, cutting into his thoughts. Another corridor opened—the one leading back to Earth. Fog rolled across it, only this time he recognized the people in the misty screen. Amir and Moussad standing in front of a Jeep. The men were dressed in dusty robes, dark sunglasses shielding their eyes. One of the bodyguard’s long arms was wrapped around a woman in a ragged chador who sagged against his shoulder.
The woman turned her head.
A few seconds passed before Khan recognized Jasmine under the swelling purple bruises that marred the golden skin of her face.
His body tensed, and his heart lurched so hard he thought it might blow out of his chest.
What have they done to her? Only Daria’s touch on his shoulder restrained him from charging through the Earth exit to rescue Jasmine.
“Who are they?”
“The shorter one is my half-brother, Amir.” He spit out the name. “The gorilla with the long arms is Moussad.”
“Gorilla?”
“A big hairy human-like animal. Although to call Moussad a gorilla is to defame that noble beast.”
“What about the woman?”
He paused. Memories tumbled around in his mind. A young girl trailing after him, hero-worship in her dark eyes. He’d taught her to ride, to shoot, and to speak English. He’d always protected her from his brother. Until now.
“Jasmine Karzai. She’s the daughter of the foreman of my farms. She’s like a little sister to me. She followed me around a lot when she was a child. We’d sent her away to a different country to keep her safe from Amir. I never thought they’d go after her.”
I should have known.
Guilt settled heavily on his shoulders. His brother was desperate and evil—a lethal combination.
Amir pointed to the remains of the road leading to the shrine and started walking to the hidden door.
Following Amir, Moussad dragged Jasmine.
They stopped at the curved brick wall.
Amir said something to Jasmine.
She shook her head.
His hand snaked out, slapping her.
Her head jerked back. Tangled black hair spilled over her face. She hung her head, her face hidden. The black tatters of her chador fluttered in the desert breeze.
Khan caught a glimpse of jeans underneath. He clenched his fists. “They must think she knows the way in. But she doesn’t. It wasn’t marked on the ancient map.”
Amir spoke again, his face vicious.
Daria whirled to face Khan. Anger blazed fire into her cheeks. “Where’s my sword?” she demanded. “We must save her.”
“I left it behind when I brought you here. But having your sword won’t do you any good. See that black thing the gorilla has looped over his shoulder?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a gun. An AK-47, to be precise. A weapon your sword wouldn’t stand a chance against. It shoots a lethal, arrow-sized missile, called a bullet, at high velocity…ah, great speed. He’d kill you before you got near him. And Amir also probably has a handgun on him somewhere.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“A smaller weapon. About this big.” He measured the space in the air.
Khan glanced back at the Goddess. “If they come inside, can you neutralize those weapons?”
The statue gave a slight shake of her head.
Khan returned to studying the scene.
Amir reached over and grabbed Jasmine’s breast, twisting until she writhed in pain.
Khan’s hands fisted as he forced himself to ignore the anger stabbing his gut. Think!
Behind them, he could see the Jeep, probably loaded with more weapons and supplies. If they could just come through the Earth door sans supplies and additional guns, he and Daria stood a greater chance of rescuing Jasmine.
Another Jeep rolled into the picture, scattering a cloud of dust in its wake. More of Amir’s men.
We need to act now.
Daria gasped. “What is that?”
“A Jeep. A kind of horseless carriage.”
“Your country must contain many marvels.”
“Sometime I’ll tell you about them.” He turned to the statue. “Open the door for them,” he told the Goddess. “We can’t let Amir have reinforcements. The minute they are in, slam it shut. Keep this one closed—” he tipped his head toward the screen “—until we’re hidden in the ruins. Longer even, if they’re not hurting Jasmine.”
The Lady gave an assenting nod.
He looked at Daria. “Without the Jeep, they’ll be on foot. Our horses will outrun them. Shad and Shir can keep sentry.” He directed a stern glance at the two monkey-bats perched on the base of the statue. “But stay behind those men so they don’t notice you. And look harmless. I don’t want them shooting you.”
They twittered a response, tails twisting in a rapid pattern.
Daria squeezed his arm. “I’ll need my weapons.”
“We’ll get them first, retrieve my knives, and stop by my home for the rest of my arrows. We’ll have to find ways…do anything we can to get them to use up their ammunition, ah, bullets.”
“And then?”
Then,” Khan paused, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the men. “The odds will be ours.”
~ ~ ~
Jasmine Karzai stared at the worn brick wall in front of her, trying to focus her blurred vision. Her face stung from Amir’s slap
s. And every inch of the rest of her body hurt as well. But even worse than the agony of her abused body was the shame that seared through her soul.
She unwillingly sagged against Moussad’s shoulder, too beaten and weak to stand upright. The reek of his unwashed body settled into her nostrils, searing into her consciousness. Her mind veered away from the memory of the rapes. If she could only escape Amir and Moussad, she could run and hide in the desert—bury herself in a sand dune. Death would soon follow.
A welcome end.
Amir snatched her from Moussad, pushing her to face the worn brick of the round building. He yanked her hair, bringing painful tears to her eyes. She tried to focus on the wall, find the outline of a door, but the pain made her thoughts too hazy to concentrate.
Amir twisted her hair around his hand, pulling her face toward his mouth. His breath stank from several days of not cleaning his teeth. The desert didn’t allow for such amenities. “Find the entrance, bitch, or else,” he growled.
“The entrance wasn’t on the map. You must believe me.” She reached out a trembling hand to touch the brick, tracing the worn surface.
With a rasping sound, the door slid aside, exposing a black tunnel.
Jasmine gasped in surprise.
Amir pushed her through and followed, Moussad on their heels.
“Can’t see a damn thing. Moussad, get the flashlights out of the Jeep,” he ordered.
Without warning, the door slammed shut behind them, blackness snuffing out the sun’s light.
Amir cursed. “Get that thing back open.”
Neither man touched Jasmine, and she began to creep away. She’d take her chances with the dark.
Her shoulder brushed a wall. She reached up a hand. The brick under her fingertips had the definition of sharp rectangles not worn by the scouring desert sand. Using the wall as her guide, she stretched her other hand out in front, hoping to avoid bumping into anything. Although if the floor opened up…. She inched her foot ahead of her.
Amir’s voice rose, cursing; a thread of panic wove through his blustering orders.
Jasmine faded away into the darkness, then quickened her pace when she started to trust the floor underneath. Her body throbbed with each step. She moved at a hunched, knee-bent walk—like her grandmother on cold mornings. The ache between her thighs reminded her of what she wanted to forget.
Sower of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) Page 17