Feel the Burn

by MacDonald, Nicole

  Relief at not having to demand the right or create an explanation for sleeping in Catherine’s room allowed Ignatius to ignore the Northerner’s disgruntled tone.

  ‘Yes! She did ask that of me. I’ll sleep at the foot of her bed. Will you and Rashid take shifts watching the door?’

  ‘As well as Belsesus. I’m assuming whatever Elena gave you will cause the Princess to sleep for eight to nine hours so we’ll take three hour shifts each.’

  The casualness with which the Northerner stated it irritated him and he snapped, ‘What makes you think Elena gave me such a thing?’

  ‘No matter your opinion of my kind, Ignatius, we are far from stupid. And I know how a sleeping potion works, though I’m curious as to what the Sorceress used. It must be quite strong.’

  Leseach said it matter-of-factly and the patronizing look she accompanied it with only served to tighten that knot of muscles more.

  ‘If you need any help with the dosage let me know.’

  She turned and left the kitchen while he snarled, ‘I’ll be fine. The task was entrusted to me.’

  He glared after her, inwardly berating himself for allowing the alien to annoy him. At the sound of a soft cough he turned and the cook flinched at his withering look. The elvan half-breed timidly offered a large mug.

  ‘It’s ready, Sir.’

  With the excuse of needing to grab a bedroll from his room, Ignatius carried the drink to his quarters and set it on the desk. After locking the door, he quickly extracted the wrapped parcel from its hiding place in the back of the desk. With cautious hands he slowly removed the wrapping, taking care not to spill any of the powdered leaf. His heartbeat sounded loud in his ears as he stared at the poison—enough to easily kill all those aboard the ship.

  How much am I meant to give her? In the haste of that fraught trip to the castle it hadn’t occurred to him to ask the Sorceress. Trying to recall how much she’d forced down Catherine’s throat didn’t help, the memory a blur of anxiety. With trembling hands he carefully tapped a measure amount into the drink and stirred until no glimpse remained.

  Belsesus stood outside the Princess’ room and nodded to Ignatius when he entered, a bedroll under one arm, taking care not to spill any of the drink. Catherine still sat at the table but had changed into bed clothes. It wasn’t what he traditionally thought of as bed wear, the small shorts revealing a lot of leg and the oversized shirt showing a glimpse of breast through the loose collar until she straightened at his approach. The reminder of his intent at that glimpse of skin distracted him and he focused his eyes on the mug.

  ‘Here, your Highness, let me know if it’s to your taste.’

  She nodded, accepting the mug and shifted on the seat pulling both knees up revealing even more leg than seemed decent in another’s company. He kept his eyes on her face, waiting to see if she tasted the poison and watched her lift the mug to her lips, tossing her plait over a shoulder when it almost dipped in the mug.

  ‘Mmmm, this is perfect,’ she smiled tiredly. ‘It tastes just as I remember.’

  Relief made him smile and he pretended to look out the window, discreetly watching while she finished the drink. She drained the mug then set it back on the table with a loud thud. Ignatius gave her a sharp look.

  ‘Oops,’ she slurred, ‘that was a little harder—‘

  Her head pitched forward and Ignatius leaped up to catch her with a muffled exclamation. Scooping her into his arms, he stared anxiously down, willing her to breathe. Catherine’s head lolled to the side, her face against his chest, and he flinched when the warm breath hit the fresh burns. Thank the gods, he thought in relief.

  A loud thump on the door made him jolt in shock.

  ‘Ignatius! Is all well?’

  Eyes on her sleeping face, Ignatius called out in a quiet voice, ‘All good, I tripped over a stool. She’s just gone to sleep.’

  ‘Oh, okay. Be careful not to wake her,’ the hushed voice replied. Ignatius rolled his eyes at the closed door and smiled at the woman in his arms.

  ‘I will,’ he whispered and carried her to the bed, gently laying her down and drew the covers over the limp figure. Seizing his bedroll off the table, he flicked it out along the floor in front of the bed, having his head at the same end as hers and stripped off to pull on his night shorts. Before climbing under the covers, he bent over Catherine and slid a hand around her throat, fingers probing for a pulse. She mumbled in her sleep, shifting restlessly against his fingers when he pressed firmly. The reassuring steady thud of blood allowed the tension to leave his shoulders and he smiled down at the sleeping woman. The poison appeared to work well, her brow relaxed and lips slightly parted while she breathed. She looked so much at ease in sleep and Ignatius gently moved his hand from her neck to cup her cheek, bending to kiss her forehead, her scent triggering a moment of desire.

  ‘Sleep well, Princess.’

  Decades of patrolling prior to being made Lieutenant allowed Ignatius to slip off to sleep with ease, the bedroll comfortable enough. With part of his mind alert to the soft breaths from above and an ear to the person on guard outside, he stiffened at the sound of a soft knock after midnight.

  ‘All well?’ breathed the Northerner from outside the door.

  With a silent yawn Ignatius sat up, tall enough to peer over the edge of the bed. Catherine slept curled in a ball, the covers sprawled around her legs and the shirt scrunched high enough to expose her belly. She held the front of it in a hand, close to her nose.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Ignatius called out in a quiet voice and drew the covers back over her.

  * * *

  Rumal paused outside Catherine’s room and stared at Leseach.

  ‘Is she still asleep?’ he asked in surprise.

  The Northerner lifted her chin and leveled a straight look at him.

  ‘Yes.’

  The unexpected abrupt tone caused Rumal to shoot her a quizzical glance, but Leseach remained impassive. With a shrug he continued on his way down the corridor and climbed the stairs to the main deck, seeking Kassie. He spotted her mass of bronze curls, the cool wind blowing them around her head. She sat with Kerak at the edge of the deck, looking over the railing toward the ship with Sabyn and Loi. Rumal slid onto the bench seat beside her, straddling it and slipped his arms around her waist.

  ‘Morning,’ he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. She didn’t say anything but leaned back against him with a sigh. Scattered clouds moved swiftly over the gray sky and the occasional gusts across the ship made the slighter goblins hunch toward the deck, bracing against the wind. The Halenine fae clung tight to the centaurs, hanging from their tails and the backs of the heavy vests the Cavalry soldiers wore.

  ‘Good morning, Kerak,’ he thought, reaching out to pat the top of the griffon’s side, his hand skimming over the stiff feathers of Kerak’s folded wings. The griffon sheltered them from the worst of the wind even though he lay flat on his stomach. Before Kerak could reply, Kassie said, ‘We’re not going to have that ceremony at Delanta.’ She twisted on the seat meeting his gaze. Her hazel eyes appeared gold in the dull light while she stared frankly at him, her lips looking unusually thin, ‘Are we?’

  Beside them Kerak sighed, his feathers pressing against Rumal’s leg. Rumal gave a short sigh of his own before licking his lips, the salt air drying them.

  ‘How much did you hear?’ he asked.

  Kassie’s mouth lifted in a humorless smile. ‘Enough.’

  Rumal looked years older in that moment and he sighed again, looking out over the ocean then back to her, gold eyes dark with a heavy look of regret. Kassie looked at her hands and watched his dark ones close over them, thumbs rubbing in gentle circles over the backs.

  ‘I’m sorry, Kass.’

  He shrugged and a frown developed, creasing his brow, his eyes grower darker still.

  ‘I can’t offer you any solace. I can’t even hint at a chance, the odds against us are so massive. She knew we were coming. I can only assume she’s be
en spying on us. We were careful about who was privy to details, and yet she knew.’

  Kassie nodded, closing her eyes against the apologetic gaze while her hands trembled with emotion. She pushed down the urge to scream and rant against the unfairness of it. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Imagining going back to Delanta, to his warm and loving family that already felt like her own, had been so easy to envision. Just the other night she’d dreamt of it, standing at his side, joining hands with him in front of all those they cared about.

  It’s never going to happen.

  A tear trickled out and she felt Rumal release one of her hands, his long fingers gently brushing the dampness from her cheek. She opened her eyes to his and swallowed hard, holding back the flow of sorrow and gave a rueful shrug.

  ‘This really sucks,’ she managed to croak out, her throat swollen with emotion before pressing her lips tight. His eyes seemed damp as he gave a barely perceptible nod before reaching out to pull her closer. Kassie wrapped her legs around his waist, not caring who saw, just needing to be as close as possible. Rumal folded his arms around her, crossing them behind her back.

  ‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘You said it. It doesn’t get much worse than this.’

  They stayed like that, cuddling close with no words. She shivered when another gust hit and pressed her nose to the skin exposed between the widely spaced buttons on his shirt.

  ‘Eeeee,’ he shuddered. ‘Your nose is freezing!’

  She chuckled evilly and deliberately did it again. With a curse Rumal pulled back, seizing her legs and flicked her around, her back to his chest and his hands under her thighs. He squeezed her tight to him. A high pitched giggle slipped out when he ducked his head to nibble her ear.

  ‘R-u-m-a-l!’

  He gave his own evil chuckle and the moment of hilarity vanished allowing a familiar sense of resignation to return while they stared out at the white caps. The hypnotic motion of the waves would have made Kassie sleepy but for the icy drafts whipping across the deck.

  ‘So this crossing is our reprieve?’ Kassie ventured after a bit, trying to put a smile in her voice.

  Rumal, his chin resting on her head, didn’t respond at first then pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck.

  ‘Yes. Let’s enjoy the time we do have. There won’t be a chance once we reach land.’

  *~*~*

  Chapter Four

  I woke in a daze, Alek on my mind and the scent of him in the air. For one euphoric moment I thought he sat at the table, watching me. Then my blurred vision cleared and I realized I stared at Ignatius. The moment of sorrow wasn’t like previous ones, just a deep sadness knowing I wouldn’t ever wake to find him there, watching. The soft blue shirt I’d worn to bed soothed my senses at least and I sighed quietly, watching Ignatius. He appeared deep in thought, his dark hair ruffled like he’d run his hands through it recently and the frown of thought had his brows nearly touching, his mouth grim. When I reached to rub my eyes he leaped to his feet making me jolt in surprise.

  ‘Catherine, you’re awake!’

  I pushed up to sitting, head spinning at first and regarded him in bemusement, wondering at the sound of relief in his voice.

  ‘Indeed.’

  The sudden memory of Alek and Yakov, pausing mid-conversation to laugh at me when I jerked awake during a long discussion made me want to smile, then cry.

  Alek. Yakov. Oh god, I miss you guys.

  I closed my eyes, inwardly chanting. You can do this, for them. You can do this.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Ignatius demanded in a concerned tone.

  The look of confusion on Catherine’s face made Ignatius aware of what he’d said.

  Fuck.

  ‘No! I meant, ahh, are you feeling okay, physically?’ He cringed inwardly. That didn’t clear it up at all. ‘I mean, you’ve slept for twelve hours straight.’

  She blinked in surprise and shoved her hair out of her face staring at him.

  ‘Twelve hours!’

  Ignatius nodded.

  ‘God,’ she croaked. ‘No wonder I’m so thirsty.’ She staggered off the bed, swaying, and trying to straighten her shirt, twisted around her waist. Ignatius stepped forward and helped her to the table, hurriedly filling a glass with water and set it before her.

  ‘Drink that, I’ll go fill this up.’

  When the door closed behind him Ignatius leaned against it, and breathed a sigh of relief, his head pounding. The longest night of my life, he thought when the pounding in his head lessened; even compared to being stuck in the baolwylf’s den. Waking to find her still sleeping, not responding no matter how much he shook her had scared the hell out of him.

  ‘A long night, Ignatius?’

  Leseach’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He opened his eyes to glare at the Northerner who stepped out of the shadow of an alcove that led to the lower decks, an eyebrow arched high while she regarded him. His neck grew hot at that patronizing expression and he ached with the desire to tell her where to go. Rashid’s comment the other day rung in his mind and though he seethed with annoyance at the thought of it, Ignatius forced himself to calm, breathing in and out slowly while ignoring Leseach. When he felt sufficiently in control, he addressed her with a steady look and as diplomatic a tone that he could manage.

  ‘I would appreciate your help in giving the Princess the appropriate dosage tonight. Elena didn’t have time to instruct me.’

  Leseach didn’t change expression and made no sound for a long moment. Ignatius gripped the jug tightly, fighting to keep his calm countenance.

  ‘I’ll come to your quarters tonight. The same time as last night?’

  Ignatius shot her a suspicious look, wondering where she’d watched him from.

  ‘Yes,’ he said cautiously.

  With the barest hint of a smile on her full lips, the alien inclined her head and turned to leave. After watching her ascend the stairs, Ignatius slowly walked to the kitchen, mind busy with thoughts.

  ‘Friend?’

  ‘What’s up, Sito?’

  At the puzzled silence Sian turned to look at the dragon and found him staring at the sky with a perplexed expression. With a straight face Sian waited. Those enormous brown eyes with their dark, Siamese cat markings rolled down, sneaking a glance at her. Then the solid box like head jerked down and he huffed in annoyance, blowing her hair back over her shoulders.

  ‘You’re teasing me!’

  She grinned.

  ‘I am not. It’s an Earth term. What can I do for you, Sito?’

  Sito hunched over, lying his head on the deck and shuffled it forward till his nose just touched Sian, large brown eyes almost crossing with the effort to gaze earnestly at her.

  ‘Wanna practice your lifting?’

  She studied the dragon with a stern look and heaved a big sigh before crossing her arms and leaning on his muzzle, taking care to avoid the nostrils this time. The dragon’s breath came quicker while his brow flickered with an anxious frown when Sian continued to regard him silently. A sooky, sad whine slipped out from that enormous muzzle, vibrating through her and she started to laugh, stretching both arms wide over Sito’s muzzle in a hug, as those aboard the ship watched in amusement.

  ‘Want to go tease Kerak?’

  ‘Yeah!’

  Chaieth frowned at Sian when she carefully lifted Sito into the air, navigating the tall masts and tangle of ropes.

  ‘Don’t spend too long up there, Sito!’ the Cavalry Lieutenant bellowed after the dragon before turning to glower at Sian, hands on his fur covered hips.

  ‘And this is the only time. We don’t want to be noticed, remember!’

  ‘I promise, Chaieth,’ she smiled reassuringly at the scowling centaur, his pointed ears flicking with agitation.

  ‘Don’t forget to say hi to Cat. Let me know how she looks.’

  ‘I will.’

  Sito’s delighted bellow made Loi look up with a smile, watching the dragon wheel around in the sky stretching his massive wing
s wide. The enormous thrusts of his wings sent gusts of wind into the sails on the otherwise still and clear day. Standing from her spot on the upper deck with Tomiar, Loi stretched up onto her toes, arms extended and she mimicked the dragon for a moment. A groan of pleasure slipped out at the audible ‘crack’ her spine made when the vertebrae shifted. Tomiar blinked drowsily, watching Loi descend the stairs to the main deck before giving a huff of a sigh and rolling over to enjoy the sun. Loi glanced back, smiling at the griffon who looked completely at ease snoozing away.

  Ahead by one of the huge masts, Sabyn and a couple of Draoths idly discussed various sailing techniques. Soldiers and allies covered the main deck, some enjoying the sun, others sparring and others watched Sito, who’d landed in the water between the ships, splashing around. Loi gathered from the comments she heard while she walked the length of the deck that most had never seen a stafandral dragon up close before, and never one that had linked with a person. Turning her back to the other ships, Loi looked over the starboard side where normally nothing but blue-green ocean stretched to the horizon.

  ‘Sabyn!’

  Pausing mid-conversation Sabyn turned at the sound of Loi’s voice and found her leaning precariously over the starboard rail, gaping at something. With a questioning glance at each other, he and the Draoths walked to Loi’s side.

  ‘Oh wow!’

  ‘What is it?’ Loi demanded when she straightened up, throwing her long hair back over her shoulders.

  ‘A death isle,’ said one of the Draoths.

  Sabyn stepped behind Loi, slipping his arms around her waist while they looked at the small, quaint island floating a hundred meters or so from the ship. About a quarter acre in size and roughly circular, at first glance it appeared to be one of the floating islands you came across in the Delos Sea. The oddly symmetrical layout, however, made you look twice. No earth showed through the green surface which had a texture to it, enhancing the appearance of grasses or heavy moss. In the center of the isle a tall, green palm-like plant sprouted. At its head a large beautiful white flower that released a delicious fragrance. Loi twisted in Sabyn’s arms, her eyes wide.