"Surely you jest." He sheathed his sword. "You are the Lady of Maragorn. If you can bewitch me, then you can accomplish this 'rent' of which you speak."
Confusion washed across her face. She bit her lower lip, drawing his gaze down to her mouth. What would those plush lips taste of? Sweetness or betrayal? He frowned. He couldn't remember actually kissing her as he was sure he'd remember the taste of one so beautiful, so deadly.
"Why are you calling me by that name?" Her voice was a mere whisper.
"Do you object to being called by your name?"
Before she could answer, a shout in the distance caused him to raise his sword. Nik wasn't one to run from a threat, but in his current condition, he couldn't win a sword fight. In this case, it was better to be cautious than dead.
He grabbed the woman's arm and hauled her to her feet. His fuzzy gaze darted around the room but he couldn't detect an obvious exit. He mentally cursed his compromised sight.
"How do I get out of here?" he growled.
"The terrace doors are over there." The woman led him to a glass door. He released her as she withdrew a key from her pocket, then unlocked it. The door swung open and the storm rushed in. The wind tugged at his cape and the scent of rain was intoxicating. The air tasted of freedom.
Nik sheathed his sword. "Come woman, we have many miles to cover." He caught her arm.
"What?" She shook her dark head and made a move to step away. "I c-c-can't go with you."
"That is an order, not a request." He pulled her closer.
"I don't care. I can't just--"
Nik ignored her objections and shoved her out the door. She gasped and scrambled to pull her hood up to shield her head. He started across the terrace, walking carefully as he was having difficulty discerning shadows from obstacles that could trip him up.
He went down the steps, dragging her behind him. The thick rain obscured his vision even further, which caused him to curse under his breath. At this rate, a blind man would find him in minutes. The witch would have to lead him if he wished to get away from here.
"Which way to the horses?" he hissed in her ear. The scent of warm woman and something flowery tickled his nose.
"I want to go home!" she wailed.
Nik withdrew one of his knives and held it before her face. "You should have thought of that when you cursed me, witch. Now lead me to a horse or I will slit your lying throat."
* * *
* * *
Lady Moli surveyed the destruction of her solarium. Already, a crew was constructing a makeshift roof to cover the destroyed ceiling while a small army of household servants worked to remove the gargoyles from the shelves. Her gaze dropped to the priceless carpeting, a gift from the overseer of Wryven, ruined by the rainwater that had poured in through the ceiling.
Junal, the commander of the Graystone peacekeepers, along with several of his men, was inspecting the door leading to the terrace. What exactly they were looking for, she didn't know. Moli's gaze swept over the mantelpiece and her heart clenched when she saw the empty spot where a particular gargoyle had stood for all of her lifetime. Nikolaz of Riverhaven--one of her great-great-grandmother's favorites--was missing.
"Mistress Moli." Junal appeared at her elbow. "You stated that you could find only one item missing from the room?"
Moli drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She'd never trusted this man. She'd heard many stories over the years, most concerning a cruel streak he was rumored to possess. "As I informed your lieutenant, one of the statues is missing from the mantel." She knew she sounded somewhat condescending but she couldn't bring herself to care what this man thought of her.
His dark gaze swept the destruction around them. "And exactly who had the keys to this room?"
"Any senior staff member of my household could get in here at any time." Her lips tightened. "That said, they know not to come in here unless it's an emergency. Only my servant, Li, is authorized to enter the solarium on a daily basis."
"Is this also true for the doors leading outside?" Junal indicated the open doors.
"Yes." Outside, the rain continued to fall in thick sheets and she shivered as the cool, damp air gusted into the room.
"Mistress Graystone, the terrace door was unlocked, not broken open." He rocked on his feet, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "I believe it is your servant who has stolen the missing statue."
Moli's nails bit into her palms. She wanted to lash out at this fool for saying such a hateful thing. Li had been in her employ for several seasons. She was a good servant, a responsible young woman, and Moli would not believe she'd stolen Nikolaz unless she saw proof with her own eyes.
"I find that impossible to believe, Captain." Her tone turned icy. "Li has been a valued and trusted servant for several seasons. What possible reason would she have to steal from me?"
"Who knows why anyone does anything?" He stroked a beefy hand over his fat greasy mustache. Her stomach churned. "Money? Maybe she plans to sell the statue. Maybe she was tired of working in your household and desired more for herself." His dark gaze met hers and she caught the flash of triumph in their depths.
Moli didn't believe it, not for one second. She turned away, her gaze flickering over the shelves of stone statues. No, she'd never believe that the young woman would steal from her.
"Preposterous," she muttered. "I'd trust her with my life and the lives of my family."
"While I hope your faith in your servant is well-founded, I need to act on what the evidence tells me." His tone was flat. "The door leading outside was unlocked, one statue is missing, and you said yourself that Li had total access to the room. That, coupled with the fact that she cannot be found, leads to the fact that she is the one who opened that door and removed the statue. Based upon this information, my men and I will begin searching for the thief."
Moli turned toward the open door. The storm lit the sky and the rain continued unabated.
"Li, where are you?"
* * *
CHAPTER FOUR
Why had every traumatic event in her life occured during a storm?
Li gave a loud sigh. She'd never been more miserable in her life. The rain had soaked through her cloak and into her clothing ages ago. Ignoring her discomfort even though she'd voiced it several times, the brute refused to halt their breakneck ride through the storm.
Hours ago, she'd tried to make her escape by jumping off the horse, and had received a bruised hip for her trouble. After he'd plucked her from the mud, he'd bound her wrists around his waist, effectively restricting any movement. She rotated her sore shoulders. Her back ached and her butt and thighs had gone numb.
Would this ride never end?
Li raised her head to peer around the stranger's broad shoulders. They rode along a narrow track that wound through a dense wood. The storm had slowed and the one small mercy was that they were partially sheltered by the thick trees overhead. The rain dripping on her head was spotty, just enough to be annoying; almost as annoying as her kidnapper.
Her eyes widened when she spied the fallen tree limb in the middle of the path. Without missing a beat, the horse leapt into the air causing Li's chin to slam into the stranger's back. She winced as her teeth grazed her tongue. Exhausted, she let her back slump and her head drop forward until she rested against his back once more.
She'd lost track of how long they'd been riding--through the night at least, and she wasn't sure how much more she'd be able to take. Every inch of her body ached and all she wanted was off this cursed horse and away from this man. She wanted her bed, one of Cookie's warm treats and a large glass of milk. Instead, she was freezing and numb from the waist down, and it was all his fault. Li gritted her teeth and leaned away as far as her bound wrists would allow.
Overhead, thick leafy trees blotted out the gray sky. Rain splashed her cheeks but she barely felt the damp caress. Her abductor had kept to the back roads and trails and now they were working their way through the woods near Albiath Falls.
The area was familiar to Li as her family had attended summer gatherings in the area when she was a child. She and her siblings would sneak away to play Dwarves and Dragons in the deep dark woods surrounding the falls.
Her heart gave a twinge at the thought of her family. It seemed like a lifetime since she'd seen them, though in reality it had only been four seasons. She bit her lower lip. The pain of her father's betrayal still ran deep in her soul. She'd learned that there were some scars--especially those that didn't show on her body--time could not diminish.
The horse slowed, then turned off the path. Branches slapped at her legs and Li winced. Would this torture never end? She thought about lodging a protest when the horse unexpectedly came to a halt. Li peered over her kidnapper's shoulder and saw only thick underbrush surrounding a large dark opening in a wall of sheer rock. A cave? He'd brought them to a cave?
"We'll rest here," the man said.
Her spine sagged with relief. "Finally," she muttered under her breath.
If he heard her, he didn't give any indication. She felt pressure on her wrists, then a quick sawing motion. Her bonds fell away and she was free. Li stifled a groan as her arms fell boneless to her sides. Within seconds, the pin-prickling sensation of blood flow returning to her arms caused her eyes to water.
Before she could blink away the tears, her captor grasped her by one arm and swung her to the ground. When he released her, the abused muscles in her legs refused to support her weight. She slid to the ground with a low moan. More tears crowded her eyes as the restored circulation to her legs set her nerves on fire.
His boots appeared on the edge of her vision, and with a disgusted noise, he grabbed her under the armpits and picked her up. Startled by the sudden movement, her hands landed on his shoulders and her nails dug into his cloak. His grip was hard, though not rough, and he carried her with little effort, though she was no small woman.
He set her down on a large boulder near the mouth of the cave, then turned away. Miserable, Li drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in an attempt to conserve what little body heat she had left. Peering through her wet and tangled hair, she glared at the man who'd brought her to this place.
His movements were economical, graceful, as he dealt with their mount. She'd been correct--he was quite tall, though his cloak obscured his frame. Seeing that she'd spent quite a few hours on horseback with him, she was intimately familiar with his hard wiry build.
Her teeth began to chatter. If she didn't get warm soon, she was in danger of turning into a block of ice. Li's grip on her legs tightened when the stranger turned toward her.
In the gloom, his blue eyes were shadowed, and she imagined she could feel his alert gaze move over her.
"You're cold?" His voice was deep and her stomach clenched in response.
"Y-y-you're not?" Her teeth chattered harder.
His handsome mouth firmed. "I feel nothing." He looked away.
"You wouldn't," she muttered. "Your hide must be made of stone."
His startled chuckle sounded rusty, as if he didn't laugh much. "You would know, witch."
She scowled at him. She was cold and in the mood to be cranky with someone, and he was the perfect target. "Why do you keep calling me that?"
He took the reins of the horse and led the creature to a rocky overhang where it would be protected from the damp weather. He shrugged. "What else does one call a witch?"
"I'm not a witch." She glared at his warm cloak, more than irritated that he didn't appear to be bothered by the inclement weather. "And you? What does one call a kidnapper?"
He turned and Li was amazed to see the corner of his handsome mouth quirk ever so slightly. He stood straight and proud, his shoulders back. Placing a hand over his heart, he tipped his head ever so slightly in the customary greeting of the Elven.
"Prince Nikolaz of Riverhaven at your service, Mistress Witch. If you promise not to bewitch me again, you may call me Nik."
Stunned, Li searched his face, looking for any sign to indicate that he was joking. One glance into his blue eyes proved he believed what he was saying. Stunned into silence, Li couldn't say anything as Nik moved past her. His cloak licked at her legs before he vanished into the cave.
In the Elven realm, the story of Prince Nikolaz and his mysterious disappearance was a favorite. The most popular version of the legend was that the prince, who was a skilled archer and a master of the sword, had run afoul of rogue dwarves or trolls in the west country. It was said that he'd been killed and his body secreted away never to be found.
Another popular version of the myth involved the infamous Lady of Maragorn. The cursed lady had been tasked with finding her one true love, and it was his kiss alone that could set her free. Unfortunately for her would-be lovers, her kiss was lethal to the wrong man and they were turned to stone.
Stone.
Images of the Evil Ones flashed before her eyes. She gulped and leapt to her feet, her knees wobbling at the hasty movement. It had to be true. Where else could the beasties have come from.
No. No, it couldn't be true.
She began to pace, barely noticing the mud that sucked at her ruined shoes. It was complete nonsense, a story to amuse children and entice them into falling asleep at night. Prince Nikolaz may have been a real prince at one time, but the idea that her kidnapper was part of the royal family was preposterous.
But what had happened to the gargoyle; the one that had fallen from the mantel?
She frowned. There'd been no evidence, no shattered pieces on the hearth, to indicate that the statue had ever existed. She came to an abrupt halt. But the gargoyle had existed as she'd dusted it countless times. She ran her hand over the silky neck of the horse; he nuzzled her shoulder as if to tell her he understood her confusion.
She closed her eyes and forced an image of both Nik and the gargoyle into her mind. Mentally, she began ticking off the similarities between the man and the statue.
The gargoyle had worn, as Nik did now, a simple jerkin, as well as the boots and cape. The sword and the bow were comparable as well. On the statue, she'd been unable to discern the details of his clothing or his weaponry, but there were definite similarities in shape and style. Then there was the fact that he'd mistaken her for Lady Nia and he kept calling her a witch. Her heart stuttered.
Could the legends of the Lady of Maragorn and Nikolaz of Riverhaven possibly be true?
Madness...
Or was it?
A resounding crack of thunder caused the horse to toss its head, pushing Li out of the dubious shelter and into the increasing rain. She gathered her sodden cloak close before she darted into the cave.
She was relieved to see it was dry, though it was a very small space. Against the far wall was a large stack of dry firewood and next to that was a generous pile of dried grasses. Crude, but it would do for now.
Crouched beside a rough ring of stones, Nik's attention was fixed on the small fire that burned in the center. Numb with cold, Li stumbled into the cave, then sank onto the ground opposite him.
Her rapt gaze was fixed on the weak flames as they licked at the tinder and dried grasses. The flames grew with each passing moment and Li couldn't resist holding her hands out toward their fragile warmth.
"How damp is your clothing?" Nik's distinctive accent jerked her from her reverie.
"Very." She was uncomfortably aware of her clammy clothing.
"You'll take ill if you don't attend to them." He rose to his impressive height and removed his quiver of arrows, then his cape. "Your cloak isn't adequate for this weather. You can wrap up in mine for now, and hopefully your clothing will dry before we get back on the trail."
Li scrambled to her feet to accept the garment. "Thank you." Her gaze darted around the small area but there was no place she could change in private. "Could you turn around, please?"
For a moment, he looked blank, then comprehension washed across his face. He gave her a faint smile. His dark gaze skimmed over her
figure and her nipples tingled. Nik was one handsome elf.
He tilted his head slightly. "I'll excuse myself for a few moments and tend to the horse." He took a large armload of the grasses, then exited the cave.
Her breath left in a rush and her cheeks warmed. She'd never have imagined that the first man she had a positive physical reaction to would be both a kidnapper and one of her own kind. Bemused, she shook her head.
Setting his cloak on a ledge, she darted a nervous glance toward the opening of the cave. Could she trust him to stay away? She really had no choice in the matter. Besides, would it be such a bad thing if he were to take a peek while she undressed?
With that lascivious thought, she removed her cloak with thick fingers. It wasn't that she thought herself to be such a raving beauty that he wouldn't be able to resist her. It was just in her experience that most men, if given half a chance, would sneak a peek at a nude woman no matter what she looked like.
Shadows shifted in the entrance, causing Li's heart to jump. She turned around, and with numb fingers she removed her clothing as quickly as she could before wrapping herself in Nik's cloak. She couldn't prevent a moan as the warm wool touched her chilled flesh. Exhausted, she sank onto the floor near the fire and held out a shaky hand toward the flames, wincing as the heat seared her palm where she'd struck the fire screen.
She held up her hand and inspected the damage. Her palm was red and covered with a few small blisters. Several had broken, and thanks to their hellish ride, she hadn't noticed the pain until now. She wiggled her fingers.
"Are you hurt?" Nik stood in the entrance, holding several dead rabbits.
"I burned my hand earlier." Ignoring the pain, she made a fist, then slid her arm into the folds of the cloak.
"Let me see." He strode to the fire and laid the animals on a rock.
She shook her head. "It's fine--"
"I'll make that decision." He crouched down beside her and reached for the opening of the garment.
Very aware of her nudity beneath the cape, Li stuck out her arm before he could touch the voluminous folds. She opened her hand, palm up.
PARADOX III Page 12