Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1)

by Kylie Griffin

  She could hear her own heartbeat in the silence that followed. Her laces finally tied, she quickly refolded the blankets and reached for her pouch.

  “I don’t think it’s the Na’Hord Patrols you’re worried about.” Kalan crouched beside her, his head tilting to peer at her. “Let me see your eyes.”

  Lady’s Breath, he was perceptive. Annika tensed, steeling herself for his reaction as she lifted her gaze. Dark green eyes locked with hers.

  “They’re bloodred,” he said. His gaze narrowed. “You’re hungry?”

  Just how hungry was she? She ducked her head, almost able to hear his unspoken question as she returned to her task of securing the blankets onto her pouch. “I need to hunt. I can do that as we travel.”

  “You’re in no condition to travel—”

  “I’ve no choice.”

  He motioned at her bandaged shoulder. “Your wounds need time to heal.”

  “We don’t have time.” She rose, slinging the pouch over her good shoulder. A frown marred his brow. It looked like he was ready to argue with her. His stubbornness sparked a bitter anger. She strode to the mouth of the cave. “Your safety is forfeited if I don’t feed soon. I’m still strong enough to overpower you. I’ll drink until I’m sated. Do you want to risk that?”

  Even though it had been years since she’d last tasted human blood, the memory of the hot sweetness of it in her mouth was immediate. The urge to grab Kalan and pin him to the ground so she could feed filled her mouth with more saliva. She shuddered.

  Breaking the addiction to human blood as a child had almost killed her. Only through carefully weaning herself off human blood and onto animal blood, and the resilience of her youth, had saved her. Hiding her transition hadn’t been easy. It’d taken nearly four months, using the excuse of foraging for herbs in the forest to cover her need to hunt, but for once her father’s disdain and the Na’Reish’s contempt for her presence among them had proved beneficial.

  Instinct warned Annika not to risk addicting herself to human blood again. Hunting now rather than later was her only option.

  Kalan appeared beside her and she fought not to flinch under his scrutiny. Staring out into the shadowed forest, she waited for some cutting remark or epithet.

  “How will you get down from the cave?” he asked.

  His calm response startled her, delayed her answering for several heartbeats. “The same way I got up here.”

  “Then give me the bag.” He took her healer’s pouch. “You’ll have enough to worry about without that hampering you. I’ll go first.”

  A quarter hour passed as Kalan scouted the area. When he gave her the all-clear, she took her time descending, testing the strength and flexibility in her arm.

  Concentrating on secure hand- and footholds helped keep her mind off her hunger but by the time she reached the ground she was shaking with fatigue. Her wounds burned and throbbed in time with her pulse. She placed her cheek against the cold rockface until she recovered, her breathing ragged. Would she be able to reach the river-trader village in her present condition?

  “We need to follow the river awhile,” she said. “I’ll fill the canteen…”

  Kalan caught her arm before she could move off. “I saw no signs of a Patrol or other Vorc.” He placed her pouch on the ground beside a bush. “Rest while I hunt.”

  Alarm raced through her. “Your scent—”

  “I’ll leave one whether I hunt or travel to Whitewater Crossing.” His argument made sense but it would also take time she wasn’t sure they could afford. “You’ve already admitted you’re a threat to my safety. How can I watch for Patrols if I’m worrying about you attacking me to feed?”

  Annika nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Be careful.”

  She watched Kalan take an animal trail into the forest then made her way toward the river. It felt strange having him head off on a task she’d fully expected to do herself. For so long she’d had to do everything on her own, no matter how tired or ill she’d been. She knelt on the bank of the river and started to fill the canteen, pausing a moment as a frisson of unease skittered along her back.

  Would Kalan use the hunt as an excuse to leave her behind and head for Whitewater Crossing on his own? He was experienced enough to realize she was a liability. It might take him a little while to negotiate the darkness once the sun set but all he had to do was follow the river.

  Her hand shook as she capped the water flask and peered along the trail he’d taken. Deep shadows obscured it where the forest thickened. She listened for footsteps, a branch breaking. All she could hear were the intermittent squawks and flapping of feathered wings as birds settled in the upper canopy. Sunset was barely an hour away.

  Fear curled in the pit of her stomach. She placed the canteen into her pouch and wiped her hands on one of the blankets. From the outset Kalan had shown a reluctance to trust her. She had all the supplies, her medicines, the blankets, her cloak but the idea that he would leave her behind was still a possibility.

  Following him once she regained her strength wouldn’t be an option. Her tracking skills just weren’t that good. Going back to the fortress would be foolhardy. Her compassion for humans was well known.

  She bit her lip. Not all humans were likely to accept her. A demon alone was fair game. It was why she’d bargained with Kalan for his protection. For time to prove she was no threat. For the chance to find sanctuary among the Handmaidens and Manservants dedicated to serving the Lady.

  Hesia had often spoken about their tolerance for all who came seeking help. If she could find one who would aid her, perhaps she could lead the new life she’d dreamed of for so long.

  Overhead, a cool breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. Annika shivered, pulled her cloak out of her pack, and wrapped it around herself. She took shelter beside a bush. Her stomach clenched with hunger. Should she hunt for herself or trust Kalan would return?

  For the moment, the only decision she could make was to rest. She’d expended a lot of energy climbing down from the cave. She tried to shake the uneasiness eating away at her but the longer she waited the heavier the sinking feeling in her gut grew.

  Half an hour passed. A full hour. Late afternoon became purple-tinged twilight, then full darkness.

  She buried her head against her up-drawn knees, fighting a combination of disappointment, fear, and hunger. Until Hesia had found the Light Blade warrior in the dungeon, her dream of freedom had been as unattainable as finding acceptance among the Na’Reish. She’d dared to anticipate a new life among humans but now it looked like she was going to have to survive on her own after all.

  Hot tears prickled in her eyes. Clenching her jaw, she swallowed hard. Crying wouldn’t solve anything.

  If Kalan had left her, she hoped he made it out of Na’Reish territory safely but while she could understand his motives, being abandoned still hurt.

  Chapter 6

  ABREATHLESS curse left Kalan’s lips as he stumbled over yet another unseen obstacle in the growing darkness. The heavy weight of the long-whiskered tree-climber on his back canted to one side, throwing him off balance. He tightened his grip on it and braced himself against the nearest tree, then sucked in several weary breaths.

  It’d taken him longer than anticipated to find a well-used animal trail and set up a snare. Trapping the nocturnal animal so early in the evening was a boon. Usually it only ventured down from its nest to hunt in the late night hours. Hopefully the carcass would have enough blood to sate Annika’s hunger.

  Her warning that she would attack him if she didn’t hunt was so un-Na’Reish like. His brow furrowed. He still didn’t like the idea of her drinking blood. Logic dictated that without drinking the blood she’d be weaker, less of a threat. Could he take what she said as truth? But why would she lie?

  He couldn’t take the risk of not letting Annika feed. For now, he’d take her word. Being Na’Chi, would she heal as quickly as the Na’Reish? He’d seen Na’Reish warriors with minor wounds heal in less than
an hour after drinking human blood. Hers were more severe.

  It was something he’d find out once he made it back to where he’d left her. Jostling the carcass into a more comfortable position on his back, he moved on. Staying close to the river had been wise. Without the sound of running water he’d never have been able to find his way back in the dark.

  Moonlight dappled the undergrowth as he skirted another bush. The forest seemed thinner up ahead. To the left he saw a familiar silhouetted rockface. Scanning the riverbank, he saw a dark shape huddled beside a bush. Relieved, he picked up the pace.

  “Annika?”

  The figure moved then he saw her glowing red eyes as she peered up at him, a startled expression on her face. “Kalan?” Her husky voice held a note of disbelief. “You’re back.”

  He sank down onto the leaf-littered bank, grunting as he dumped the small carnivore on the ground between them. “It took me longer than I thought to catch something…” She swiped a sleeve across her face and he heard her inhale a shaky breath. He frowned. “You didn’t think I’d return?”

  She shrugged. “I’d given you directions to Whitewater Crossing—”

  “So you thought I’d strike out on my own?”

  Avoiding her gaze, Kalan poked at the leaf litter with the toe of his boot. He had thought about abandoning her, more than once during the hunt. The darkness provided cover from easy detection, and with the knowledge of how to get to Whitewater Crossing the lure to leave had been tempting.

  The shallower water near the trading village was considered neutral territory, the safest place for Na’Reish and human Patrols to cross—the former to bring slaves back from raids, the latter while rescuing them.

  During the hunt, he’d mulled over all sorts of arguments to justify leaving Annika behind even though she’d been the instigator of his chance at escape.

  His sister needed him. His people needed him. Annika’s weakness was a liability. Staying to help her meant the risk of being recaptured was greater. All valid reasons. No one could have faulted him for taking the journey to freedom.

  Except his conscience. And curiosity. He wasn’t sure which took precedence over the other but Annika deserved an answer.

  “I returned because I gave you my word I’d help.” He gave her a partial truth. She flinched and her gaze swerved away from his. “Once given, it’s as binding as my faith to the Lady.”

  Her fist clenched around the edge of her cloak. “Hesia always said a Light Blade’s honor was as important to you as your faith. I shouldn’t have… doubted you.”

  She stumbled over the second half of the sentence and he wondered at her reaction. Did she care about what he thought of her?

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was pitched so low he barely heard her. “It’s not an excuse, I know, but I’m not used to people keeping their promises to me.”

  He rubbed a hand over his jaw. What sort of life had she lived to expect that sort of behavior? He wanted to question her further but the tension between them didn’t lend for confidence sharing.

  He motioned to the animal. “What do you want done with it?”

  She drew her pack closer and pulled out two objects: a wooden cup and a small knife. “Cut its throat. I’ll collect the blood as it drains.”

  A chill rippled through Kalan, her request triggering the memory of watching Light Blades butchered and drained by the Na’Reish at the time of his capture.

  “I’ve seen Na’Reish drink straight from the source.” Tension made his voice hoarse.

  She stiffened, pausing in the act of passing the knife to him. “I’m not Na’Reish.” The reminder did little to banish the raw images in his head. “If you’d rather, I can do this by myself.”

  His gaze locked with hers as he reached for the blade. Several long heartbeats passed before she relinquished the weapon.

  “If you attack me, I’ll defend myself, Light Blade.” Her voice shook. The flecks in her eyes went from yellow to green and the familiar hum of her Gift teased his senses. “All I want to do is drink.”

  Kalan tightened his grip on the hilt of the blade and sliced the throat of the tree-climber. The rich, metallic odor of blood filled his nostrils. Annika placed the cup under the dark liquid flowing from the wound. It filled quickly. Her hand shook as she lifted it to her lips. She hesitated. The sharp pinch of hunger was there in her face as her gaze met his over the rim of the cup. She drank.

  Nausea curled in his stomach at the thought of what she was doing. He had to look away. The screams of his comrades in arms as they were murdered echoed in his mind. He could still hear the laughter and taunts of the Na’Reish guards and feel the painful grip as they’d restrained him from going to their aid. His warriors had died slowly. Cursing under his breath, he fought to hold the tree-climber steady.

  “I take no satisfaction in this.” The bitterness in Annika’s voice made him look back at her. She was watching him as the cup filled again. “I do it to survive.”

  When he said nothing, her gaze dropped but not before he saw her eyes change from red to orange. The emotion behind her actions became clear. The Na’Reish took pleasure in flaunting their feeding habits. She was ashamed of what she was doing, but her hunger gave her no other choice. The idea gave him pause.

  How much easier for her would it have been to give in and feed from a slave? Instead she’d chosen to resist her demon instincts, defy her heritage, and subsist by hunting and feeding from animals. The resolve involved in such a decision spoke of a strong person, one incredibly determined and disciplined.

  Annika continued to avoid his gaze as she finished the last cup then took it to the river to wash. He cleaned the small knife and disposed of the carcass. It was a pity to waste the meat but they couldn’t risk a fire to cook it.

  She was waiting for him when he returned, her pouch slung over her shoulder. “Let’s move.” She motioned with her chin the direction they should head.

  “Annika.” He reached out and caught her shoulder. She stiffened. “You’re not Na’Reish. I’m sorry I implied otherwise.”

  The apology didn’t come easily but she hadn’t deserved his anger.

  “I’m a demon.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. But it did, he knew that now.

  “Half-demon.” She remained silent, her stance still tense. He was surprised that her being uncomfortable around him bothered him so much. “You haven’t attacked or hurt me and you’ve done everything to warn me about your nature. The Na’Reish would never do that.”

  “You trust me?” While her expression gave away nothing her voice held hope.

  “Not yet. But I can’t deny the truth of your actions.”

  After a long heartbeat she exhaled a shaky breath and nodded. “I can accept that.”

  And so could he, for now. It didn’t mean he’d let his guard down around her, and only the Lady knew where it was going to lead, but for now he’d trust Her to guide him.

  “Ready to go?” Her quiet question reminded him they still had a long night ahead of them. With a nod he let her lead and they began to follow the river.

  ANNIKA tilted her head to one side and glanced back over her shoulder. The tall trees lining both sides of the rutted cart track they were walking along weren’t thick enough to block the morning sunlight. Pale sunbeams danced with shadows on the leaf-littered roadway all the way back to the last undulating rise.

  A pretty scene, had it not been for the uneasy feeling eating away at her stomach. Trusting her instincts, she reached out to touch Kalan’s forearm.

  “Do you hear that?” she murmured.

  He halted. “Hear what?”

  “Exactly.” She swept her gaze over the forest around them. “Birds should be calling this time of morning.”

  His expression tightened, his eyes narrowed. “How far are we from Whitewater Crossing?”

  “It’s just around the next bend.” Before she could speak again she spotted movement on the roadway behind them. Six dark forms, two on Vorc-ba
ck, topped the last rise. One knelt to examine the ground. Her heart began to pound.

  “A Patrol?” Kalan’s question was terse.

  She nodded and pushed him into the bushes. “Use whatever cover you can. Run.”

  He followed her instruction without hesitation. There was little doubt the Vorc had already picked up his scent and they’d probably left tracks for the Na’Reish scout to find on the trail. Using the roadway had been a risk but a necessary one to reach the river-trader village in good time.

  A cry shattered the air, loud enough to drown out the sounds of their rapid footsteps.

  Kalan glanced back. “They’ve reached the place where we left the road.”

  “Keep going.”

  On the uneven ground, they risked turned ankles if either of them tripped between the twisted tree roots but it would be just as difficult for the Patrol. The Vorc-riders would have to force a path through the undergrowth or follow the roadway and wait for the scouts to capture them. Either way, the Patrol would be divided. It increased their chances for escape.

  Kalan drew to an abrupt halt as they broke through the treeline onto a cleared paddock. Annika bent over to gasp in deep breaths as she sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward.

  On the other side of the fallow ground a small village of ramshackle wooden huts sat perched on a bend in the river while below on the pebbled scree a flat platform ferry was anchored to a wooden dock.

  Squeals of laughter drew her gaze to the rocky shore. She recognized the half-dozen children pitching stones into the water. While the younger ones hadn’t been allowed near her during her previous visits to the village, she’d seen them from a distance, as curious about them as they were about her.

  “Cross this field,” she panted and pointed toward the dock. “There’s the ferry. We need to find Vash, the ferry-master.”

  A shrill whistle came from the dock house the moment they began traversing the cleared field. The children on the riverbank dropped their stones and ran for the buildings. They didn’t even bother to look around. The tallest sprinted along the main thoroughfare shouting a warning.