Heart of Fire

by Kristen Painter

  “Patience, mistress. Your handy hireling is overloaded with so many chores.” He held up a linen square full of food. “Saddle the mounts, save you from serpents, carry you, serve your breakfast...” He opened the linen cloth across one of the larger boulders and set out their meal, sighing with the great effort.

  She laughed at his teasing, snatching a pear off the cloth. “Do you think we’ll make a town by this evening?”

  Finishing a bite of cheese and bread, he answered. “Sleeping aground not to your liking?”

  “I prefer the comforts of an inn.”

  “The closer we get to Shaldar City, the more towns there will be.” He finished the last of his breakfast, tucking an apple into his pouch.

  She gathered up her tunic, still drying by the fire, and stuffed it into her pack while he covered the coals over with sand. The combination of the salve and the hot water had lessened the ache in her legs but the thought of more riding bothered her. She was out of salve and by nightfall, she might not be able to walk at all.

  The land grew more mountainous the farther they traveled. Bruised clouds drifted across the midday sun.

  “Ertemis, can we stop? It’s chilly. I want to get my cloak out of my pack.”

  “Aye.” He turned Dragon around, reaching to get her cloak for her. He fished it out and tossed it around her shoulders, brushing her cheek with his hand.

  She fastened the clasp and opened her mouth to thank him but he put a finger to his lips. He scanned the landscape, his face stern.

  After a moment, he spoke in a low voice. “We’re being watched. I sense it. Stay close.” Wheeling Dragon back around, he scanned their surroundings as they traveled. Ahead of them, the passage narrowed between sheered rock walls.

  A stone fell in the distance and they turned. Four figures on horseback stood on a ridge behind them. Ertemis reached over and grabbed Petal’s reins. “Hold on,” he yelled, urging Dragon and Petal faster.

  Jessalyne looked over her shoulder. The men charged down the ridge after them. Fear shot through her. “Who are they?” she yelled.

  He ignored her question. “We need to get through the pass.”

  Wind whistled in her ears as she looked again. Their pursuers were gaining, the two nearest now brandished blades, bloodlust in their eyes. She glanced ahead. The pass was so far away.

  Jessalyne gulped air. The ground passed rapidly beneath them. She clung to Petal, her heart pounding in her chest. Tyber was right. All the realm was not Fairleigh Grove.

  She saw Ertemis tug on Dragon’s reins, slowing the warhorse down to stay beside her. Petal’s nostrils flared and foam speckled her mouth. Jessalyne’s stomach sank. They weren’t going to make it.

  “Stay behind me,” Ertemis commanded, wheeling around to face the four horsemen, dust billowing.

  “We’re going to fight them?” Jessalyne pulled Petal around.

  “Nay, I’m going to fight them. Stay on Petal. Be prepared to run for the pass.”

  Petal sidled up next to Dragon and Jessalyne tried to pull the jenny back. This was not staying behind.

  The men were almost upon them. All four had weapons ready. They slowed as they approached, fanning out into a semicircle. One of them shot her a wicked smile that gave her a feeling only a long, hot bath would rid her of.

  The men were so filthy it was hard to make out their features. The stench coming off them wrinkled her nose. She swallowed and glanced at Ertemis.

  His cloak was thrown back over his broad shoulders, revealing the measured rise and fall of his leather-clad chest. One hand caressed the hilt of his sword, the other rested on his thigh, holding the reins. How could he be so calm?

  His hood shrouded his face from the men but she could see it. A predatory sneer twisted his mouth and his eyes—his eyes chilled her blood.

  From the shadows beneath his hood, his eyes glittered preternaturally bright with a raw, savage sheen. It was an unearthly, feral glow as frightening as anything she’d ever seen. Everything the name Black Death implied seemed right at that moment and yet, not enough. A reflexive shudder ran through her.

  “Get behind me, Jessalyne.” He spoke without looking at her, his voice low and menacing.

  She tugged at Petal’s reins, trying to pull the jenny back.

  The first highwayman spoke. “We’d like to thank ya for bringing the wench along. That’s an extra bit a fun we didn’t count on. Maybe we’ll let ya watch, if yer still alive. Course the Legion don’t care how we bring ya back.” Spittle flew from the man’s lips. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing his already filthy face.

  “I never had an elf wench before,” another chimed in.

  “She ain’t elf. She ain’t got the ears.”

  The leader spoke again. “Don’t matter to me what kind of ears she got, so long as her other parts is the same.”

  The four broke into laughter. The leader nudged his horse a little closer. “Ain’t you gonna fight us, muddled blood? Ain’t you gonna protect your woman?”

  Jessalyne wanted to know the same thing.

  Ertemis raised his head. The man flinched and the laughter ceased.

  “I’m not going to fight you.” Ertemis’s voice rumbled like thunder. “I’m going to kill you.”

  One of the four started to laugh again but his partners didn’t join him.

  The shush of metal against leather sang out as Ertemis unsheathed his sword. His Feyre gleamed in his other hand. He dug his heels into Dragon’s side and the horse charged between the men. He struck with both blades, unhorsing one man and opening a gash in the leader’s cheek. Dragon pivoted and Ertemis was on the next two men before they could turn, a symphony of horse and rider.

  With an angry howl, the leader came after Jessalyne, his cheek bleeding rivulets through the dirt on his face. She yanked at Petal’s reins, kicking the jenny into a run. The clatter of hooves on stone drowned the rush of blood in her ears. The man was right behind her, cursing at her to stop.

  She fumbled for her dagger, trying to free it without dropping it. He was so close, so close and gaining. A sharp pain snapped her head back and jerked her off Petal. Jagged rocks bit into her as she smacked the ground. She yelped in pain. Stones tore through her skirt and scored her skin. The man on horseback hauled her across the ground by her braid.

  He reined his horse and jumped down, winding her plait around his fist. He yanked her up and looped his arm around her neck, pressing his bloody face against her. “Now we’ll see how much yer halfling wants to fight.”

  Jessalyne gagged. His breath stunk almost as much as the muck-crusted fabric of his tunic. She yanked her arm up to elbow him but the deadly sparkle of his dagger stopped her.

  “Don’t think I won’t use it,” he snarled, pressing it into her ribs. She staved off the warm tendrils of fear curling over her skin. If she burned the man, he would kill her for sure.

  “Let. Her. Go.” Ertemis stood over the bodies of two of the men, Dragon behind him. The third man was simply gone, horse and all. Ertemis’s eyes glowed like moonlight.

  The man shook his head. “Drop yer blades and get on yer knees. Yer life or hers, you decide.”

  Ertemis met Jessalyne’s gaze. He mouthed the word fire then slanted his eyes away.

  He wanted her to use her magic? He was the Black Death, couldn’t he do something? She shook her head.

  “Don’t move,” the man seethed in her ear.

  The blades slipped from Ertemis’s grasp, falling to the ground with a dull clang. The sound tore at Jessalyne’s heart. He was giving up. He dropped to his knees, head down. She couldn’t use her powers to hurt after what she’d done to her father. She just couldn’t. She’d vowed not to.

  The man yanked her along as he walked toward Ertemis. His arm tightened around her neck. She coughed and his blade dug into her side. “Quiet.”

  The man tugged her head back and lifted his blade to her throat while he spoke to Ertemis. “Did ya think ya could kill my men and I�
��d let yer wench live? Shame to snuff such a fair piece.”

  He nuzzled his crooked nose into Jessalyne’s hair, inhaling. The blood from his cheek matted the loose strands to her face. “Course with all the coin yer hide’ll bring me, I’ll be able to buy the finest wenches in town.”

  He pushed the blade into her skin. Something warm trickled down her neck. The man spat on the ground in front of Ertemis. “Look at me when I’m talking to ya. I want ya to watch me slice her pretty throat.”

  Ertemis raised his head. His eyes blazed with lethal fire.

  The man recoiled. Ertemis sprung. He grabbed the man’s hand and forced it up with a sickening snap, whipping the man around and spinning Jessalyne out of his grasp. She landed on her hands and knees, gulping deep draughts of air.

  Like a great black sea, Ertemis’s cloak swelled around him. There was a soft crunching sound and the man dropped to the stones by Ertemis’s boots. She crumpled onto her side, exhausted, panting. She closed her eyes. It was too much.

  “Jessalyne,” his voice was fraught with concern. He was at her side, brushing her hair back, cradling her. “Open your eyes. Speak to me, lelaya.”

  He’d killed those men as easily and thoughtlessly as swatting gnats. “I want to go back to the grove,” she whimpered. Her throat hurt, her backside and legs were bruised from riding and scraped from being dragged, the back of her dress was shredded, her head ached from having her hair pulled, and the man she had hired to protect her was being hunted by men who wanted to kill him – men he had no issue killing in return. Time to go home.

  “Open your eyes. Please.”

  She did. His eyes were silver-speckled black again. No lethal glow, no deep threatening glitter. She rubbed her throat. There was blood on her fingers.

  “I know, sweeting, he nicked you.” He hesitated, as though it hurt to speak. “You don’t want to go home,” he whispered. “You want to see Shaldar City.”

  She breathed a deep shuddering breath. “Why were those men after you?”

  His mouth creased, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted her gently and carried her to Dragon’s side. If he noticed her flinch at his touch, he didn’t show it. He set her down, unhooked his waterskin and offered it to her. “Drink.”

  She managed a little water, then asked again. “Why were those men chasing us? That man was going to kill me.”

  “No danger of that now.”

  “Answer me.” She fisted her hands to stop the shaking. It didn’t work.

  He went to brush a strand of hair off her cheek and she pushed his hand away. His jaw twitched. “There’s a bounty on my head.”

  A bounty? She limped to a large boulder and sat, wincing when her bruised backside came in contact with the stone. He’d dispatched the highwaymen so fast he’d been hard to follow. She shuddered, remembering how the leader had slumped at his feet in a boneless heap. Her imagination took over. Thief. Murderer. Rapist. She spoke in a very small voice. “Why is there a bounty on you?”

  “I left the Legion without paying my conscription price.”

  That didn’t sound so awful. “Why didn’t you just pay it? Isn’t that what Valduuk did?”

  “I tried. Every time I had enough, the amount increased. They didn’t plan on letting me leave. Ever.”

  “Why leave, then? You made it seem like it wasn’t such a bad life.”

  “It wasn’t the life, it was the work they made me do.”

  “Why? You said you were a messenger.”

  He scanned the area. “Leave it at that.”

  “No, I won’t. I paid you to protect me. I deserve to know.” You kissed me, she wanted to say, you kissed me and that gives me some right, doesn’t it?

  “You ask too many blasted questions.” His eyes swept the horizon.

  “Ertemis.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me,” she demanded.

  He looked at her then, his jaw set, his eyes dark and liquid. “I was the Legion’s most proficient assassin. That’s why I’m called the Black Death.” His mouth twisted. “I couldn’t do it anymore.” The sky rumbled, threatening rain.

  She sat quietly staring at the stones by her feet. An assassin. Who’d saved her. Held her. Kissed her. A man whose values went against everything she believed in. “Why not? Killing those men didn’t seem to bother you.”

  He shifted his weight to his other foot. “Those men would have killed you. Or worse.”

  “Wouldn’t make for good business, would it? Dead employers give poor references.”

  “Jessalyne, that’s not—”

  “Please, I’ve had enough.” She twisted away from him, the pain in her legs now seeming like fair payment for aligning herself with such a creature.

  “Do you think I enjoy the blood of others on my hands? Do you? Do you know that my senses let me hear each dying heart beat? Let me feel the waves of fear and pain and pleading desperation? With every death I’ve dealt, I’ve died a little myself. I had to leave before there was nothing left of me.”

  “You were right to leave, then.” She picked bits of debris off her skirt. “Perhaps you should have left sooner.”

  “I tried.”

  “Really? That implies failure. I don’t see you as a man who fails to get what he wants.”

  “I wouldn’t expect a healer to understand.”

  “Good, because I don’t.”

  “Would you rather I let those men take you?”

  She met his eyes then. “No.”

  “Then let that be your first lesson in understanding, healer.” He exhaled a long, ragged breath. “That nick on your throat needs cleaning.” Wetting a corner of his cloak from his water skin, he knelt beside her and gently wiped off the crusted blood. “Why didn’t you call fire when I asked you?”

  His soothing touch couldn’t keep her chin from lifting. “You had no right to ask me to use my power to hurt someone. I’m not....” She wanted to say like you, but didn’t. “I just won’t is all.”

  “All I wanted was a distraction, something to get his attention away from you. I wasn’t sure I could get to him before he hurt you.”

  “A distraction?” She twisted her hands together.

  * * *

  Ertemis felt shame and guilt swirl off her, sad replacements for the fear he’d felt from her earlier. It gutted him that she now held him in such low regard, but why should she be any different from anyone else. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. I’m ready to go.”

  He put his hands on hers to keep her seated. “I told you the truth, Jessalyne, and regardless of how poorly you liked it, you will do the same for me.”

  Her anger washed over him then. “Fine, you want to know? I’ll tell you. I’m the reason my father left. I am. I couldn’t control my power and I burned him so badly he couldn’t stand to be near me. That’s why I wouldn’t help you. After he left, I vowed never to use my powers to hurt anyone. Ever. Do you understand?”

  Haemus’s scars were from her. Ertemis nodded. “But you didn’t burn him on purpose, did you?”

  “Of course not. He was my father.” She rested her forehead against her palms. “My mother had just died, I was upset, he grabbed me...it just happened. I didn’t even know I was capable of such awfulness.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.” He tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it was. If I were normal, it never would have happened. You don’t know what it’s like...” The words spilled out of her, anguish burnishing her eyes.

  “I know very much what it’s like to be despised for something you can’t help.”

  “You do know, don’t you?” She looked at him with new understanding. Perhaps she would forgive him yet. “Does it make you afraid of me?”

  The tremor in her voice pierced him. “Nay, sweeting, it doesn’t make me afraid of you.”

  “But I could burn you.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “But you
won’t. Just as I would never hurt you. I know you fear me, at least a little. I don’t blame you. I would fear me too.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. Her gaze imprisoned him more tightly than the Legion ever had. “No one ever wanted to touch me—”

  “I want to touch you. Will you let me?”

  She nodded.

  He kissed her firmly, trying to tell her with his mouth that she had already branded him with the sweetness of her mouth, already set him aflame with her silky skin, already kindled a fire in him that wouldn’t be put out. She was everything good that he was not. If ever he’d had a reason to leave his past behind, she was it, and he wished for the thousandth time since meeting her that he was a better man. A man worthy of her.

  A blasted clap of thunder broke them apart. He searched the sky. “Rain won’t hold off much longer. We should go.”

  “I don’t feel like traveling but I don’t want to camp here.” She rubbed her throat, but her fingers strayed to her lips, still swollen from his kiss.

  “We’ll go only as far as the next town. There should be one on the other side of the passage.” He brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  “Aye, you are.” He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. “I swear it.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “No one’s ever told me that but my mother.” She took her hand back, brushed it over her hair, and tugged the leather thong from the end of her braid. “My hair is a mess.”

  “Here, let me.” He moved behind her and worked his fingers through her hair, unweaving the silky braid. She moaned softly and leaned into his hands. He picked out the debris, brushed it smooth with his fingers and plaited the top section the way he’d once done his mother’s. He tied it off with the leather thong. “There.”

  She reached back, feeling the braid with her fingers. She pulled it over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen a braid like that. It’s lovely. Thank you.”

  “It’s an elven plait.” He offered her a hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She started to rise but her legs buckled. She dropped back onto the boulder and winced.