The pungent scent of their hostility raised the hairs on the back of Annika’s neck. A rush of adrenaline cleared away her fatigue.
“I don’t care why you helped this Light Blade escape from Savyr’s fortress but I do care that your father will come looking for you. We both know he won’t be happy.” Vash’s grey eyes narrowed. “What I need to know is how many Patrols will he send to my village looking for you?”
So that was to be the way of it. Kalan had left Vash to question her, unable to stomach doing it himself? Annika scrambled to her feet, unwilling to face them all while sitting down.
Maren seized her injured arm, his fingers clamping directly over the newly healed wound. Gritting her teeth, she tried to pull away only to find her other arm caught. Both Maren and the other man hauled her back toward the wall of the all-weather cabin and slammed her against it. The impact drove the breath from her lungs.
“I noticed you favoring this arm earlier,” Maren hissed. His fingers dug into her shoulder. Pain shot through it, numbing every muscle along the length of her arm. “How many Patrols track you?”
“I don’t know.”
He scolded her with a tongue clucking noise. “Wrong answer, Na’Chi.”
He twisted her arm until every muscle, tendon, and ligament screamed in protest. Nausea flooded her belly. She bit the inside of her cheek, her temper flaring at Maren’s brutal tactics.
“Think carefully, demon, and answer my father with the truth. Claim you don’t know again and I’ll break your arm.” The whispered threat increased her anger. Compared to her father, Maren’s technique was amateur.
“What are you doing?” Kalan’s sudden question saved her from answering. She couldn’t turn her head without putting more pressure on her wrenched arm but she heard his rapid approach. “Release her.”
Maren and the other man made no move to obey until Vash nodded. Sensation rushed back into her arm. Light-headed, she slumped against the wall, and bit back a groan.
“I thought you’d appreciate a few answers.” Vash folded his arms. “Her kind don’t tend to tell the truth without a little persuasion.”
“I’ll ask my own questions, river-trader.” Kalan’s voice was clipped, short. “I don’t need your… help.”
Disappointment speared through Annika. So much for Light Blade honor.
Vash grunted then signaled his men to return to work. “Suit yourself.” He retreated to stern.
She glanced warily at Kalan. Was his anger for Vash or her? She straightened, unwilling to cower like she’d been forced to do with her father as he’d punished her for some infraction; defenseless, too vulnerable.
Kalan turned his stormy gaze on her. “Why’d you lie to me?”
Her mouth dried. The muscles across his broad shoulders were bunched, tight, and his knuckles had whitened where they grasped his folded arms as if he was restraining himself from grabbing her.
Fear clawed in her gut. Would he pick up where Vash had left off if she refused to answer him?
“I didn’t lie to you.” To her shame, her voice trembled. “I neglected to tell you something important.”
“You used deflection and deception.” His accusation cut like a whip. She flinched. “When were you going to tell me who you were?”
“Would you have helped me had you known who I was?” she demanded. His silence answered for him. “Hesia might have had faith in your reputation as a Light Blade but I didn’t, not when my life hung in the balance.”
His face darkened with her reckless tone. “Your life? Your lineage ensured your status among the Na’Reish.”
Blood drained from her face. She sucked in a ragged breath. “You think that gave me an advantage?” Her voice rose and cracked. “My father barely tolerated me.”
“Then why did he let you live?”
“Revenge.” She bit out the word even before she had the chance to think.
Kalan blinked then a slow frown marred his brow. Merciful Mother, surely he didn’t imagine her father cared for her? Her temper soared higher.
“Savyr’s firstborn son was killed by a Light Blade warrior.” Trembling, she ground out the facts past stiff lips. “He wanted the human responsible dead, but that was before he learned the warrior had offspring of his own. A daughter. So, he captured her instead then raped her until she fell pregnant.”
Chills raced along her arms. The memory of watching her father’s dark lips peel back over his fangs in a malicious smile terrified her even now. He’d taken such pleasure in telling her how her mother had screamed and fought him. Even knowing how sadistic and malicious he could be, the thought of him forcing her mother, time after time, made her sick to her soul.
While raping slaves wasn’t condoned by the Na’Reish, it was a practice rarely spoken about. Especially considering bloodline purity played such a prominent role in their culture. Many talked about Savyr’s obsession for revenge but few were naïve enough to question him about it in his presence.
Annika clenched her hands. “He made sure she couldn’t kill herself or injure the baby inside her so that she’d lose it. For nearly eleven months, he’d kept her chained to a bed in his private chambers, her every move observed by loyal blood-slaves.”
Kalan still watched her, his gaze intense, his expression shuttered. Unlike the other humans in her father’s household, he hadn’t flinched or grimaced with the details of her mother’s story. Did he believe her?
It shocked her to realize she wanted him to, badly. Blood pounded in her head. Had it been a mistake to tell him anything? She couldn’t hold his gaze and stared at the wooden boards beneath her boots. When would she learn not to care about what others thought?
Her fingernails bit into the skin on the palms of her hands. He was going to hear the rest of the story whether he believed her or not.
“Once I was born, Savyr intended sending us back to her father. The disgrace of returning with a Na’Chi child would’ve satisfied my father’s need for revenge, but the birthing was difficult. It took too long. My mother died. If I believe his version of events, she did it just to spite him. Sending me back to my grandfather alone served no purpose. There was no proof of my bloodline. So, he kept me and has reminded me daily of why I existed.”
His blood runs through your veins. Savyr’s angry mantra echoed in her head. Breaking you is the only satisfaction I have left.
Defying him had brought her a great amount of satisfaction. She wanted to believe her endurance and strength were traits inherited from her mother.
The smile that stretched her lips felt brittle, crooked. “Someone had to pay for the death of his son.”
Her past was distasteful, yet worse was the hope and assumption that Kalan might accept her. The expressionless mask on his face gave away nothing but his recent actions proved he was just like everyone else. He didn’t care.
Annika buried her disappointment and hurt deep but couldn’t stop trembling. She’d made a mistake thinking her life could be anything different. Hesia’s love was a blessing and she’d abandoned her to follow a haze-induced dream.
She met Kalan’s eyes, her gaze steady but inside she felt as frozen as the water rushing beneath the ferry. Her next words, forced from between numb lips, felt like shards of ice slicing her throat. “Tell me, Light Blade, what privileges do you think I inherited being bred as a tool of retribution?”
Kalan stood silently, reeling from shock as the rawness of Annika’s emotions washed over him. Hesia had warned him but he’d never realized the full extent of what she’d meant. Until now.
While instinct cautioned him not to believe her, he suspected Annika wasn’t lying. Savyr’s brutality was legendary. In the last five years alone he’d slaughtered every member of two Na’Reish clans who’d dared raid across the border without his sanction. To use a child, someone so innocent and vulnerable, to satisfy a blood-debt was unthinkable. Immoral. Her tale left an acrid taste in his mouth.
Annika turned her back on him and walked to the
other side of the ferry. Kalan tried to hold on to his anger but the revelations of the last few minutes and her hunched shoulders projected such aching loneliness and despair that maintaining it was impossible.
Mother of Mercy, how had Annika dealt with being told every day of her life that she was only a means to an end? She had as much reason to despise her father as he did. He very much doubted anyone could fake the stark loathing he’d heard in her voice as she’d recounted her story. The shadows in her gaze hinted at more, at a dark self-hatred only a lifetime of abuse could cause.
The memory of stripping her naked in the cave was vivid. The scars on her back came from being beaten. And there were too many marking her skin for it to have happened only once. Savyr’s behavior would’ve encouraged others to treat her in much the same fashion. What additional horrors had she endured at the hands of her father? The other Na’Reish? The human-slaves?
How could he have accused her of living a privileged existence? She was an outcast. Ostracized by all except the old healer. Lady of Light, it was a miracle she hadn’t become as embittered and vengeful as her father. Instead, she healed others and dreamed of freedom.
Annika had deceived him, but Lady forgive him, she hadn’t deserved his anger, especially considering the secret he hadn’t shared with her.
Kalan sighed roughly and moved toward Annika. She tensed. The flecks in her eyes were black as her gaze slashed up to meet his.
“So, do you now slide a knife between my ribs and slip my body overboard to save everyone the trouble of what to do with me?”
Her tone was biting, caustic. Unsurprising considering how he’d treated her but the remark wasn’t aimed at provoking him. He recognized it for what it was. Armor.
She’d lashed out at him to keep from being hurt again. And he had hurt her. Unforgivably. He’d blamed her for his own weakness and desperation to escape. Her actions were a convenient scapegoat for him to hang his guilt. The injustice of what he’d done ate at him.
Honor demanded he make amends. The path the Lady encouraged him to walk was undeniably a challenging one.
“I should have listened to my own instincts back in the dungeon, when I believed you were evading my questions. The responsibility of what I chose to do then lies with me, not you. Implying otherwise was wrong. Hesia tried to warn me your life among the Na’Reish hadn’t been easy. I should have listened to her. I’m sorry.”
Her involuntary start reminded him she rarely expected apologies. She remained silent, her breathing uneven as she fought for control of her emotions. Her pain was very much his fault.
“Are you going to hand me over to your Council?” Astonishment must have shown on his face because one side of her mouth curled upward into a cynical smile. “Na’Chi have excellent hearing, Light Blade. Did you forget that?”
He had. “Despite what’s happened, our bargain stands.”
“I misled you.” Her chin lifted. “I don’t expect you to honor it.”
A convenient out, if he wanted it. His estimation of her grew. Few men could have made a decision like that; most would have begged to renegotiate. Somehow he doubted Annika had ever pleaded for anything. It just wasn’t her way.
Deep inside, he rejected the idea of taking the coward’s way out. Curiosity prompted his next question. “What would you do if we part ways?”
She shrugged. “There’s always the need for a healer somewhere.”
Too general an answer for his satisfaction but he didn’t press her.
“And if Savyr finds you?”
“My sympathy for humans is well known. He’ll assume I helped you escape.”
“Which means what exactly?”
“He’ll kill me.”
There it was again: that hint of helplessness and dark desolation in her voice that pulled at him.
“You’re giving up?” he asked.
The yellow in her eyes flashed to black. “I should have known living among my mother’s people wouldn’t work.”
The white lines of tension bracketing the corners of her mouth indicated she really believed what she was saying.
“You’d abandon your dream of freedom?”
“Dreams are for fools! It was stupid to think I could ever fit into your world.”
Her vehement denial prodded his guilt. He didn’t like that he’d played a part in crushing her dreams. He shifted from one foot to the other.
Again he wondered at the purpose of the journey the Lady had set him on. Was he destined to take Annika back to Sacred Lake? Despite the upheaval that would cause, She’d thrown them together for a reason.
He wasn’t afraid of a challenge. Mother of Light, he wouldn’t be where he was in the ranks of the Light Blades if he hadn’t overcome many already. It was just the potential ramifications and the effect it would have on others besides himself.
Did he dare presume everything would work out in the end? Would it? What path did She want him to take? Which direction was the right one?
Kalan ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps the choice should be Annika’s. The journey was as much hers as it was his. Even as he thought it, a sense of rightness settled close to his heart.
“Only the Lady knows for sure if you’ll find a home among us,” he refuted. “You dream, you plan, you adapt.” Her closed expression firmed his decision. “If you really want to strike out on your own when we dock, then I won’t stop you.”
Her gaze flickered behind him to where he knew Vash and the others stood. “What about them?” she asked.
“They won’t stop you either.” Her gaze followed his hand as he touched the amulet on his chest. He’d trust in the Lady to guide them both. “You have my word. The decision is yours.”
It took every ounce of resolve to turn away from her then and leave her to her thoughts. He prayed he’d made the right choice of leaving the decision in her hands.
Only time would tell.
Chapter 8
ANNIKA could feel Maren watching her from where he stood on the riverbank waiting for Kalan to finish talking to Vash. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, as he tracked her every move. Other river-traders stood near him but he made no effort to join their quiet conversation as they anchored the ferry. His silent scrutiny stroked the nerves in her stomach.
Trying to ignore him, she settled her pouch over her shoulder then followed a set of wheel tracks to the top of the bank. They disappeared into a thick forest. One she’d only ever seen from a distance. She’d never been farther than Whitewater Crossing. Never dared.
This side of the river was human territory, a place no demon went without a Patrol or two as an escort. She glanced back at the river. How it had come to be the natural division between Na’Reish and human territory she wasn’t sure. Learning any sort of knowledge or history belonged to the Na’Reish, the privileged upper caste.
But the map on the wall of her father’s chamber had given her some insight. She knew the humans lived on the eastern side of the river, all the way into the mountains and beyond them to the plains that bordered a huge sea. They lived in cities and towns and villages as well as crofts and isolated huts. That much she knew from listening to the Na’Hord scouts talking among the ranks.
The Na’Reish were broken into a dozen clan provinces, with most living within the confines of a keep rather than spread across the land like the humans, even though as a race they patrolled an area similar in size. Annika couldn’t recall how many times she’d heard her father stress that strength in numbers and purity of bloodlines would ensure the survival of the Na’Reish. The Na’Reish had been bound by those beliefs for the last five hundred years.
Annika’s gaze returned to the ferry and Kalan. He would expect a decision from her shortly about whether she continued traveling with him or went her own way. That he’d given her the choice surprised her. Was this a way of getting back at her? Elicit her response then refuse? If not, then what had changed between him discovering her identity and now?
Despite h
er brave words about making it on her own, Annika knew she’d be lucky to survive a week alone on either side of the river if she went on without help. Perhaps Kalan knew this and letting her decide her own fate would keep his conscience clear and honor intact.
Her throat tightened. Should she remain with him or gamble on finding a safe place on her own? What was the right thing to do? She drew her cloak closer around her, wishing Hesia were with her. She missed her so much. The old woman’s advice always managed to calm her when things didn’t go to plan.
Trust in the Lady. She will guide you. Hesia’s age-worn voice whispered the familiar words in her mind. How many times had she heard her say them? They brought her a modicum of comfort.
Hesia claimed their first meeting had been Lady ordained. Annika remembered the incident, not because it had been the start of a lifelong friendship, but because she’d been a scared seven-year-old hiding from a Na’Reish lordling intent on giving her something worse than a bloody nose. Walking through the snickleway on her way to a slave-birthing, Hesia had heard her crying behind a water barrel.
With a lot of coaxing and gentle words, the healer had treated her bloody nose as well as several other scrapes she’d gained in her flight from the lordling. A simple act of kindness but one that impacted Annika in the days and weeks that followed.
Some of her earliest memories were of tagging along behind Hesia on her rounds through the fortress. There’d been no reprimands or curses, just more softly spoken comments and, once she’d gathered enough courage to join Hesia by her side, explanations of what she was doing to heal her patients. With the knowledge of the humans’ letters and words a skill she’d been forbidden to learn by her father, Annika had memorized every scrap of information.
Then there were the prayers to the Lady for guidance and assistance. At first Annika believed Hesia and the human-slaves had been talking about an actual person, but the more she’d listened she’d discovered that She was a deity who offered them wisdom and comfort while guiding them in their journey through life.
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