And it was so blessed quiet.
SEVENTEEN
After his scouting venture, Tiago rejoined the party looking refreshed and invigorated. Niniane’s spirits took an upward surge as she watched him approach. He was a superb horseman. His black-clad figure astride the huge dappled gray gelding was eye-catching as they moved across the land with power and grace. He was easily the largest male of the group. The Dark Fae males who reached his height had lean whipcord strength, but they appeared willowy and almost effeminate by comparison.
Tiago approached to check on her welfare, his dark gaze searching her features as she smiled at him. His Power enfolded her in a brief, vibrant, invisible caress. Then he took his leave again. He consulted with Arethusa, collected three soldiers and went ahead on the road.
Then the party reached a bend in a wide shallow river, where Arethusa called a halt for the day. The area had been used several times as a campsite, and the underbrush had already been cleared away. Tiago and his group of soldiers were gathering kindling and chopping wood, so setting up camp became an easy chore for the new arrivals. The temperature began a sharp drop as the sun moved low in the sky. There would be a hard frost that night. Soon several large campfires were set and blazing.
Many of the party had modern nylon domed tents, but Niniane’s tent was a large, luxurious Dark Fae construction, warmed by woolen carpets and sectioned into two rooms by heavy, embroidered wall hangings. The outer sitting room had pillows, two cushioned wooden chairs, lamps and a campfire ring, where a small fire in a brazier chased away the damp and the chill. The second room contained her bed, a stool and a small travel desk, her saddlebags, another lamp that hung from a hook on a metal pole and the two trunks that contained her belongings. There was also, a Dark Fae female soldier informed her, a brass tub. If her highness would like, water could be heated for a hot bath.
Niniane almost groaned out loud when she heard. She and Cameron had hobbled into her tent to collapse in the chairs. They were among the worst off in the group. She didn’t know if the Vampyre’s human attendants also suffered. Cameron was a fit athlete but had never before ridden a horse for hours on end, and it had been many years since Niniane had.
“Is our pain that obvious?” Niniane asked. Cameron had sunk low in her chair and gave her a dour look.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the female soldier. The other Dark Fae female’s face remained impassive, but her gray eyes smiled in sympathy.
Niniane said, “I would be most grateful for a hot bath. Cam?”
“I don’t have a firstborn,” said Cameron. “But you can have mine if I ever do.”
“We will heat water,” said the soldier.
Soon she and two other soldiers brought in the brass hip tub and filled it with pails of steaming water. Niniane stripped without ceremony or self-consciousness and collapsed into the bath. As she soaked, Cameron brought her Aleve and hot spiced cider. Twenty minutes later she dried and dressed in fresh jeans and sweater. She was still sore, but at least she could move with more freedom. She left the other woman to soak and stepped out of the tent.
After the warmth of her tent, the air felt sharp and bracing. The camp had become well established. Her tent was in the most protected area, surrounded by others on all sides and well lit by campfires. The sun had dropped below the tree line. The rich evening light was beginning to fade. It had become diffuse enough that the Vampyres were able to shed their protective clothing.
Aryal sat on a log at the campfire in front of Niniane’s tent, tending several rabbits she roasted on spits over the fire. A couple of nylon coolers were stacked near her long, lean legs. Rune stood near the harpy, his hands on his hips, as he watched the activity around the other fires. Tiago would be around somewhere, Niniane knew, but she couldn’t see him at the moment, and his bag was nowhere in sight. Niniane frowned, crossed her arms and tapped her foot, thinking.
Rune caught sight of her. “Hey, pip-squeak. We’ve got supper here if you’re feeling hungry. There’s the fancy stuff in the coolers, and Aryal wanted fresh, hot meat.”
“About fifteen more minutes and the rabbit will be done,” Aryal said.
“Thanks. Where’s Tiago?”
Rune said in her head, He’s been interacting with the troops, working to build a rapport. They seem to like him. I think he’s trying to get Arethusa to loosen up. She said she would share whatever she found out on her end of the investigation, but then she went tight-mouthed on us. Maybe he can get her to talk.
She nodded and frowned at the leaping flames of the campfire. All she wanted was to take a seat at the campfire, relax her aching body among friends and stay in the protected bubble that had been created for her, but she knew she needed to reach out to the Dark Fae as much as Tiago, if not more. She looked up at Rune, “I should tour the camp.”
He nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He fell into step behind her as she walked from campfire to campfire. She stopped to talk with the troops, learning each of their names, and she thanked them for setting up such a comfortable campsite. She left them smiling as she walked to Kellen’s site.
The Dark Fae male was eating a simple supper of stew and pan bread. He set it aside to stand as she approached. She raised a hand. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how everyone was doing. Please, don’t let me interrupt you.”
“But your interruption is the highlight of my day,” Kellen said. He smiled and gestured to the stool beside him. “I’m so glad you came. Please join me. I have such a taste for my man Huwyn’s field stew. I ask him to make it every time we travel. May I offer you some?”
She sat on the stool he offered. She kept her expression bland. A traditional Dark Fae field stew was an autumn hunter’s dish. It consisted of whatever wild game one could catch, cooked with dried berries, herbs and roots. Kellen’s passion for the stew could very well stem from how safe he knew his meal was. She told him, “My supper is being prepared, but I would love to taste Huwyn’s stew. I haven’t had field stew in ages.”
She felt rather than heard Rune move behind her. Kellen’s smile widened. He gave her a knowing look. He offered her his bowl, from which he had already taken several bites. “I would be honored if you tried a bite of mine.”
“Thank you,” she said. She took his bowl and tasted the stew. It was a rich, hearty blend of sweet and savory. She took another big bite before she made herself stop, then she handed the bowl back to him. “That is delicious. Perhaps next time I can coax Huwyn to make a larger pot to share.”
“I know he would be transported with delight,” Kellen told her.
She talked with him for a few minutes about their day, letting the conversation develop a relaxed tone. Then she said, “I would like to run something by you, if I may.”
“Of course,” Kellen said, his intelligent gaze fixing on her expression.
She regarded the leaping flames of his campfire as she sought to find the right words. “I know how much tradition means to you, and how much it means to many of the Dark Fae,” she said at last. “It is important to me to honor our traditions while also looking for ways to open up Dark Fae society to new opportunities. I think striking a balance may be tricky, and I’m hoping to talk with you from time to time about my ideas, if you’re open to that.”
“I would be delighted and honored to talk things over with you,” he said at once. He gave her a smile that redesigned the tiny lines on his lean, spare face. “Sometimes I can be too hidebound. Your fresh ideas are just what the Dark Fae need right now.”
“I hope so,” she told him. “For example, while we were in Chicago, I looked around at that great big mansion and got to thinking. The property is fully staffed but for the most part it sits unused. I thought maybe it could be turned into a school. People could go to stay for six-week courses and learn about technology and take computer classes, that sort of thing. We have so many magnificent metallurgists. I wonder what they would make of computers and other electronic devices. We need to ope
n up our borders and interact more with the outside world, and I thought that might be one way to stimulate innovation and economic growth.”
Kellen’s brows rose as she talked. As she fell silent, he said slowly, “I think that’s an excellent and very generous idea. I also like the fact that the property is so protected. Chicago can be quite a shock to the system after one has lived in Adriyel for so long.”
She smiled. “I’m so glad you agree.”
They talked about the idea for a school for a while longer. It was easy to avoid difficult topics by focusing on a positive subject. When she rose, he stood also and reached out to touch her arm. “This was exciting,” he said. “I’m glad you stopped by.”
“I am too,” she told him. “Let’s talk again soon.”
She wished him a good evening and walked toward Aubrey and Naida’s camp, Rune a quiet shadow at her back. Inwardly she was in more turmoil than ever. She wanted to bond with Kellen. Admittedly they did not see eye-to-eye on some important things like Tiago coming to Adriyel, and her truthsense was not all that evolved, but she liked him. Under more normal circumstances she would have stayed longer and enjoyed his company. She wanted to look forward to relying on his legal wisdom and experience.
Naida and Aubrey were relaxed at their campfire, drinking mulled wine. Nylon food coolers lay open at their feet. Apparently they had no problem with eating what the kitchen staff had prepared for them. They both rose as she approached.
“Niniane,” Aubrey said. He took her hands and kissed her cheek. “How nice of you to stop by. How are you doing on your first day out?”
She snorted. “After a hot bath and some medicine, I have achieved miserable.”
Naida smiled at her. “I think you did remarkably well. You’ll have your riding muscles back in no time. How was the mare?”
“She was perfect,” Niniane told them. “A real joy to ride.”
“Will you join us?” Aubrey asked.
She told them the same thing she had told Kellen. “I have supper waiting back at my campfire, but I would be delighted to join you for a few minutes.”
She was pleased to note that Aubrey looked behind her to Rune and made a special point to include him in the invitation. As far as Kellen was concerned, Rune had joined the metaphorical woodwork where all guards and servants existed. Rune sat, and the four of them talked about the day. Rune made an easy fireside companion. Niniane hid a smile behind one hand as she watched Naida grow brighter and almost flirtatious in the sentinel’s presence. It was easier to enjoy Naida away from the pressure and tensions of the rest of the group.
Naida said to her, “That clothing you’re wearing seems so wonderfully functional.”
Niniane laughed. “You mean my jeans? Yes, they are. They can stand a lot of wear and tear, and they’re quite comfortable.” She hesitated then said, “I didn’t bring much in the way of clothing with me, just some travel outfits and a few mementos. I’ve been noticing how elegant your clothes are, and I admire your sense of style. I hope you don’t mind if I ask you for advice on clothiers. I am interested in developing a more traditional wardrobe.”
Both Naida and Aubrey looked pleased. “I would be honored,” Naida told her. “Perhaps we can spend an afternoon together so I can get an idea of the colors you like.”
“I look forward to it.” Niniane smiled and stood. “Please, don’t get up. I’ve interrupted your evening enough.”
But no matter what she said, they stood anyway. “I’m glad you came,” Naida said, her voice warm. “Let’s talk again soon.”
Niniane nodded, gave them both a smile and turned away. As soon as her back was turned to the other Dark Fae, her smile dropped away, and she scowled. Rune fell into step beside her, moving with lazy grace, as she headed toward the Vampyre camp.
Rune said, “I notice our supper does not lie in this direction.”
“I have one more stop I want to make,” she growled.
“Perhaps you would enjoy your next visit with a sunnier attitude if it were accomplished after supper,” he suggested.
“Oh shut up,” she said.
“My case in point.” He raised his eyebrows and looked bland when she glowered at him. “I’m just sayin’.”
The evening still showed hints of the day’s golden sunlight, but shadows were deepening across the clearing and glowing lanterns had begun to appear in strategic places as she and Rune approached the Nightkind encampment. Rhoswen, Duncan, the other male Vampyre and their human companions (attendants? servants? food supply?) were gathered around a communal campfire. The group looked relaxed. The humans had made short work of their portion of the supper supplied by the Chicago kitchen staff. Perhaps their air of relaxation was an illusion, but Niniane envied them their ease in each other’s company.
She was amused to see that the humans were not prompt in rising to their feet at her appearance. They only did so after Rhoswen gave them a glare. She would miss modern Americans’ casual ease of manner.
She said to Rhoswen, “I was hoping to have a word with Carling.”
After a brief pause, the blond Vampyre said, “Certainly. The Councillor is down at the river. She invites you to join her.”
“Thank you.”
Niniane went in the direction Rhoswen indicated. She followed a short trail through bushes to arrive at the river’s edge, while Rune kept pace at her back. As the evening sky darkened, the brightest stars began to shine. The river rippled silver in the fading light, and the fiery foliage colors on both banks turned muted. At first she looked along the near bank for Carling. It was only when Niniane saw pale material draped on a nearby bush that she thought to look out over the river. She found Carling’s sleek dark head cutting through the water.
“Oh my God,” she said. She shuddered. The water had to be so frigid it was bone numbing. Anybody who fell into it would run the risk of hypothermia in minutes if they were, well, alive. “You don’t feel the cold?”
Rune looked amused as he parked himself by leaning against a nearby birch tree with his arms crossed. Carling’s husky chuckle sounded over the water. The Vampyre swam against the current. Her lazy-looking breaststroke made it look effortless.
“I feel it,” said Carling. She ducked her head under the water and came up to the surface again. “It just doesn’t affect me like it does you.”
“Is it the same as sunlight?”
“That is a different matter,” said the Vampyre.
“How so?” Niniane had been dying to ask ever since she had seen Carling step into the sunshine at the hotel.
“I cloak myself with Power so that I can walk in sunlight. Otherwise I would have to cloak myself with clothing and sunscreen, like the other Vampyres do, or the sun would burn me to ash just as it would them. I can step through sunlight and can look upon it, but I can no longer feel it on my skin and survive.”
“That must be exhausting.”
“I would not want to travel for weeks in the daylight without respite, but this short trip is fine.”
Carling swam toward the shore and walked out of the water. Niniane lost her breath. The Vampyre’s sleek, wet, nude body glinted with the silver edge of the fading light. Her full breasts, slim waist and strong shapely legs were perfectly formed and sinuously graceful, but there any pretence to perfection ended, for she was tiger-striped from shoulder to thigh, her body covered with dozens of long white lash scars. Someone had beaten her badly when she had been human, beaten her so badly she must have been near death.
Niniane clenched her teeth and grew teary. Carling gave her a brief disinterested glance as she stepped to shore. Then the Vampyre’s attention moved to Rune and paused for what could have passed for a heartbeat.
Niniane turned to Rune too.
He stared at Carling. His handsome face was carved into stark lines, the bones standing out. The lines of his body thrummed with tension, the muscles cut with rigidity. His golden lion’s eyes blazed.
Carling turned from the sentinel. S
he plucked her clean caftan from the bush and shrugged it on, her movements languid and unhurried. Her expression remained bored, and her face and body gleamed with radiance.
“Perhaps we should talk in my tent,” Carling said.
Niniane followed Carling back to the campsite. The Vampyre stepped inside her tent, which was a large, modern nylon affair with zipped-up windows. Niniane paused at the entrance. She said to Rune, “Please wait here. I know Tiago wanted me to stay with one of you at all times, but I’m only going to be on the other side of this canvas.”
Rune nodded without speaking.
She hesitated. She didn’t know what she was tempted to ask him, maybe just if he was all right, but his expression was tight, closed-in, and his body language warned her away. She sighed. Sometimes Wyr were inexplicable.
She stepped in the tent. Inside it was decorated with the damask silk hangings and the mahogany inlaid trunk from the hotel. There were no chairs, just a scattering of pillows on a rug. Carling poured two glasses of red wine. Her dark wet hair lay sleek against her head. She turned and offered a glass to Niniane, who took it. Then Carling sank down to sit cross-legged on a floor pillow. Niniane tried not to show her struggle as she eased her aching body down onto another pillow.
Carling sipped wine. “What do you need?”
“Some advice, if you can give it.” Niniane rubbed her eyes. There was no point in beating around the bush. She asked the Vampyre, “Do you know if any of the Dark Fae in this group tried to kill me?”
“No,” said Carling. “I do not.”
Niniane struggled to verbalize her next question. It was surprisingly hard to ask. “How do they—feel to you?”
Carling shrugged. “They feel like people.”
“I mean emotionally. Could you tell if one of them was feeling violent?”
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