Stalking toward Keara with the grace of a large cat, Lord Simon pulled a stained rag from his tunic. His lip curled as he came to her, his eyes flat, emotionless. He stuffed the foul tasting cloth into her mouth, almost choking her with it. She shook her head, trying to spit the gag out, trying not to have him tie it, but he slapped her, stunning her into stillness. The cloth cut into her cheeks as he pulled it tightly behind her head.
“I have plans for you.” Simon shook a finger in her face. “You’ve been a bad girl, running off, making it hard for me to find you.”
The henchman loosened his grip from her waist, grabbing onto her arms, yanking them behind her back. Simon tied her wrists together, twisting the ropes until blood pulsed in her hands, trapped there by the bindings. The gag caught her yelp of pain. When he finished tying her hands, he cinched her feet together. If his henchman hadn’t been holding her arms she would have fallen over. Fear coiled in her stomach, and she swallowed the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her.
The henchman pitched her over his shoulder and blood rushed to her face, throbbing against the gag. Each step he took stabbed his shoulder into her stomach as she fought to breathe. Her shoulders ached from the tension of her tied wrists. Her hands and feet tingled as they went numb.
Would Thoren know to look for her? Would he care? How could she be so stupid as to fall into Lord Simon’s clutches? Again. Would she be able to escape him this time?
Soon the man carrying her stopped. Keara raised her head to see that they stood at the side of the wall surrounding the town, an open door spilling darkness before them. The position hurt her neck, and she let her head fall against the man’s back.
“Welcome to my home, Keara. You’ll stay here until the hooded man decides to take you elsewhere.” Lord Simon chuckled as he grabbed her braid, jerking her head up to meet his gaze. “Who knows? If you’re good, he might even share you.” Despite her eyes watering, she managed to fix him with a glare. Not a smart move, to antagonize one’s captor, but no way would anyone be sharing her.
And who was this hooded man? A chill ran down her spine a second before Simon’s palm smacked against her cheek. The pain ricocheted through her already aching head.
“You’ll learn not to look at me that way. Fast or slow, you’ll learn.” He dropped his grip, allowing her head to bang against the man’s back.
Keara ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, feeling the cuts, trying to swallow the blood before she gagged. Her cheeks on fire, tears of pain and frustration ran from the corners of her eyes. The man walked through the opening in the wall and the door slammed shut behind them with a bang, plunging them into darkness.
Bile rose in her throat the deeper they walked through the stone tunnel. Cold fear shot through her veins when she saw the barred cells of the dungeon, chains dripping from the walls, the rank smell of damp thick in the air.
Oh, please Goddess, don’t let them keep me here!
Keara raised her head, blinking away the tears. She would not cry. She would not give Simon the satisfaction of seeing her upset. Torchlight flickered against the damp stones. From one of the cells came shuffling noises, like that made by a large beast. A huge shadow appeared in the cell from which the noises came and the shuffling sound grew louder. Her heart stepped up its rhythm, a frantic thudding in her chest, echoing in her ears. Would they feed her to the beast? It took all her willpower to turn her head to the side, to stare at the beast as it came toward them.
The man carrying her gasped, almost dropping her as he took a step to the side. But Keara couldn’t look away. Her gaze remained transfixed by the monster. Blood red scales glinted in the torchlight. A long snout culminating in sharp teeth and large nostrils butted against thick prison bars.
Glowing green eyes blinked at her, widened, then narrowed. It let out a roar that shook the dungeon, causing little rivulets of dirt to drop on their heads. Claws tried to grasp the bars as the thing roared again. Steam started coming from its nostrils and a small amount out its ears. Opening its mouth, gracing them with a view of sharp teeth, it let out a plume of fire, narrowly missing them.
Heat blasted against Keara as the man holding her dropped her in a panic. She landed with a thud against the dirt floor, stunned, the breath locked in her lungs. The creature bellowed its rage, letting loose another plume of fire, which raced in the air above her body, hitting full force the man who dropped her. A scream of pain lasted seconds before ending abruptly.
Keara smelled the nauseating stench of burned flesh and concentrated on not gagging. Opening her eyes, she stared in horror at the monster. It stared back, making little whimper noises, steam still pouring from its nose and ears.
Free me and I’ll help you. The words in her head startled Keara. Had she hit her head hard enough to hear voices?
“I see you’ve met my father’s pet.” Lord Simon stood beside her, causing her to twitch in surprise. She missed hearing his footsteps in all the commotion. The creature started making snuffling noises, heralding another fireball. Lord Simon yanked Keara to her feet, holding her against him as a shield, dragging her body backward. A roar bellowed from the cell as the monster threw itself against the bars.
“Father claimed it was a man when he captured it, a powerful man. Not like you could believe a thing my dear father said. He captured the ‘man’ here right before he lost his mind.”
Keara remembered her grandmother treating Lord Simon’s father for dementia. The old woman had been puzzled, saying no good reason existed for a man his age to lose his mind.
“Now our little ‘man’ sits around, eating cattle and billowing smoke. He must really hate you though because he’s never made a crispy critter out of one of the men before. I’ll keep that in mind, in case you fall out of favor with the hooded man.”
The creature roared again. Free me, girl, and I’ll set you free.
How? How do I do that when I can’t get free? Great, just great. I’m carrying on a conversation with that creature in my head. Maybe dementia was catching. Or maybe the thing could talk in her head. Lord Simon reached the stairs, starting to back up them. Keara’s feet bumped against the steps and she caught her breath.
The keys, girl. Give me the keys.
Good thing she was gagged. If not she’d be laughing hysterically. I’m losing it.
No, not losing it. Think about the keys landing in front of my cell. Think hard.
Why not? What did she have to lose? Before Lord Simon could drag her around the bend in the stairs, she sighted the keys hanging on the wall, several feet from the creature’s cell. Closing her eyes, she pictured them floating off the wall and toward the creature, landing outside the bars of his cell. When she opened her eyes, the wall of the stairwell blocked her sight to the dungeon, so she couldn’t tell if the keys still hung on the wall or not. But a voice floated through her head on a sigh.
Good try, girl. Good try.
Chapter 7
“He’s not well guarded.” Enar peered over Thoren’s shoulder, keeping in close proximity with his friend, thereby ensuring he remained invisible.
Thoren cocked his head to the side, watching the two men guarding Jamie roll dice. Hiding under the spell of invisibility, he and Enar had tracked the boy back to Keara’s store, where Jamie sat behind the counter tied to a chair and gagged, guarded by two not very observant men.
Through the open window, Thoren heard the dice rattling in the wooden cup before he saw them thrown onto the counter the men lounged against. One of the men let out a cheer, raking a pile of coins toward him. The other man glared at the winner, but proceeded to roll the dice again. Jamie stared at the game, dried blood frozen in rivulets from his temple to his jaw.
Crowds of people dressed in identical colors of drab brown and black cried noisily to the vendors hawking their wares in the stores lining the narrow street. Hit from behind by one of the passersby, Enar stumbled into Thoren, who fell against the window with a loud “oomph.”
“What w
as that?” one of the guards asked.
His friend shrugged. “Nothing important.”
“Dumber than rocks.” Thoren shook his head.
Enar chuckled. “Lucky for us. Which one do you want?”
“The bigger one. You’d have trouble with him.”
“If it makes you feel better to compensate for what you lack...”
“You wish.”
“Mmphm. Now do I use Blood Seeker, or the flimsy sword?” Enar mused.
Thoren glanced over his shoulder at the huge broadsword strapped to Enar’s back. Enar reached up, fingering the hilt of Blood Seeker, before placing his hand on the smaller sword sheathed at his waist beside his dagger.
“Wouldn’t be very sporting,” he said to Thoren’s raised brow.
“Hmm, tough and yet sporting. What have I done to deserve such a friend?”
Enar snorted. “Lucky, I guess. Ready?”
“As ready as I’m getting.”
Thoren swung the door open, landing it on the wall with a bang, simultaneously dropping his spell. Enar bellowed a war whoop and the two guards jumped, paling even as they reached for their weapons. Thoren pushed the weapon of the larger man aside, landing a punch on the side of the man’s jaw, knocking him into the counter. The man slipped to the floor, head lolling.
While Enar toyed with his victim, Thoren slid across the counter and pulled the gag off a wide-eyed Jamie.
“Did they hurt you?”
Jamie shook his head, mouth working like a fish, but no sound coming forth. Thoren touched the lump on the boy’s head that still oozed blood. It looked like he had been hit with a sword hilt.
“You sure?”
A vigorous nod.
Guess their definitions of hurt differed.
Thoren pulled his knife, sawing through the bonds holding Jamie’s arms to the chair. His knife had no sooner touched the ropes circling Jamie’s ankles, when Thoren heard the back door creak open. The knife’s movement froze as Thoren raised his eyes, looking for the newcomer.
“Hey, George, Hans, you can kill the boy.” Footsteps sounded, carrying the voice closer. “Lord Simon has the woman. Said the dumb bitch fell right into his hands.”
Keara. Cold rage spread throughout his limbs, focusing his thoughts into a single thread. Simon had Keara. Simon would die.
Dropping the knife, Thoren leapt to his feet, stretching out his hand to slam the newcomer against the wall with a blast of magic. Using magic, Thoren pinned the man against the wall, rage beating his pulse. He felt steam escaping from his ears and didn’t care who saw.
Simon had Keara. Simon would die.
The man’s eyes rolled, showing white as he struggled to breathe, hands flapping uselessly against the invisible grip on his throat, his feet kicking against air.
“What woman are you talking about?” Thoren snarled, his voice warped with fury.
“The...the witch...the apothecary witch,” the man squeaked as wetness stained the front of his trousers.
“Where?”
“Lord Simon’s house. I swear I had nothing to do with it. I’m just the messenger!”
With a roar, Thoren threw the man against the opposite wall, knocking him unconscious. Steam whipped around his head, blurring his vision. Scales rippled down his arms, his fingers changing into claws. The beast roared to escape.
What was happening to him? Why, in the name of the Goddess, was he even considering turning in a non-Draconi town? Had he completely lost his mind?
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the dragon back where it belonged. The claws shrank into fingers, scales disappearing into skin. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling, trying to get his breathing under control. Forget the breathing, he needed to get his entire body under control. If anything happened to Keara, he became like a demented dragon, bouncing off the walls, threatening to turn into the beast.
He refused to think about what the demented dragon act meant.
“Now that you’ve finished playing darts out of soldiers, are you ready to go find Keara?” Enar leaned against the counter, a wide-eyed Jamie at his side.
Did the boy know he was a Halfling? There would be plenty of time to ask, but now they needed to find Keara. Thoren turned to Jamie.
“Tell me the quickest way to Lord Simon’s house.”
Jamie looked at the floor, then cut a sideways glance at Enar. “Umm. Well, you see, the quickest and safest way would be the sewers.”
Thoren groaned.
“Sweet Goddess, not again. I doubt I could abide the stench.” Enar shivered.
“And you know where his house is from the sewers?” Thoren raised a brow.
Jamie blushed. “Yes, sir.”
“Thought only thieves knew where the houses were on the sewer line.” Enar crossed his arms over his chest. Jamie gulped and backed away a step.
“Small boys do too. Especially when they got nothing better to do.”
Thoren threw Enar a glance, remembering their youth.
“Lead the way, Little Adventurer. But stick close. You have some explaining to do once we get Keara freed.” Thoren gestured toward the cellar.
****
From the dungeon, Simon carried Keara to what looked like a bedchamber, pitching her on the bed. She rolled, trying to get off the bed, but a hand stopped her. Her eyes followed the hand up the arm to the person’s head. A cowl hid the face in dim shadows. A brown robe like a priest’s cloaked its body. A squeak was the only sound the gag allowed her to make. Chills flowed through her skin from his touch on her shoulder and her body shook. Who was this?
Keara tried to roll the other way, but the hooded man stopped her, keeping her on her side. She felt cold steel slip between her hands and then relief as the rope around her hands released. Unfortunately the relief didn’t last. Simon grabbed one arm, the hooded man the other, and despite her struggles, they tied her arms to the bedposts. Her heart pounded against her ribs. They were going to rape her, they were going to kill her and no one would be able to stop them.
She pulled against the ropes holding her, but only succeeded in tightening them.
“Quite a fighter. Hopefully her powers are as strong as her spirit,” the hooded man said.
“I brought her to you. Do you have my money?”
“I said I’d pay you once she works out. Currently she’s tied to a bed. Until I know how well she’ll work out, you don’t get paid. Understand?” His voice hardened and Simon flinched. Hooded Man pulled the cowl further over his face, the drapes of robe hanging from his arm slipping up, exposing skin. Spindly black lines danced against pale white flesh.
Her eyes popped wide and froze. Draconi. A Draconi had her captured. What did that mean? Did Thoren know this man?
As if he read her thoughts, the hooded man turned toward her. “Ah. So you know.”
“Know what?” Simon asked.
“She knows who I am.”
Simon glared at Keara before turning back to the hooded man. “How? I don’t even know who you are and we’ve worked together for several weeks. A name would be nice.”
The man waved a hand and Simon shrugged. He turned back to Keara. “You’re wondering why you’re here. Let me tell you. You, my dear, will help me get revenge on my enemies, especially that hard-nosed bitch priestess who had me banished. I’ve waited months, plotting a way to get back at that bitch, and then like a gift from the Goddess, I saw you. Imagine that, a female Draconi unguarded. It took little effort to convince Simon to help me capture you. I couldn’t resist having you as mine and using your powers for revenge. Now, now, don’t shake your head just yet. You will help me. You won’t have a choice. Our friend here,” he gestured toward a grinning Simon, “has a special herb he’s going to feed you. It makes you quite amenable to whatever we want you to do. What’s it called?”
“Zombie dust,” Simon smirked.
Zombie dust? A barbed ball formed in her stomach, gnawing at her insides. Her breath caught. Zombie dust was against
the apothecary code, forbidden, dangerous. Ground roots from the plant mixed with oil from the leaves and steeped into a tea made a drink so dangerous even the town’s laws forbid the possession of the plant. Too much and the user could die. Just the right amount and she would do whatever the one who gave her the drink asked. Anything. Cold seeped out from her stomach, shaking her limbs like a baby’s rattle.
“Ah. So she knows what zombie dust is.”
“Of course she knows. She’s the town’s apothecary.” Simon faced her. “But what you didn’t know is that I have taught myself herb lore. Nothing like you, of course. My skills focus on the illegal, the dangerous. Why should I bother to learn the mundane that you practice?”
Thoren had to find her and fast. Would he even bother? And what kind of punishment would Thoren give her for wandering off and getting caught? Despite what he thought, he was her husband according to her laws. How many bruises and scrapes had she and her grandmother tended when a husband decided his wife displeased him? She shuddered. Power crept out of Thoren, along with sheer masculinity. If he turned a mind to beating her, there wouldn’t be much left to clean up.
Be that as it may, she’d rather face Thoren’s wrath than whatever evil these men had planned for her.
Simon moved to a table on the opposite side of the room from where she lay and started mixing what she assumed to be the zombie dust potion.
The hooded man ran a finger down her throat, between her breasts. She jerked to the side and he laughed.
“Soon you won’t mind. You’ll do what I want. Where did you find her?” He walked to where Simon stood mixing his potion.
“Outside of the town. Her apprentice had returned. We have him too, she obviously was chasing him down. Guess she didn’t like her rescuer after all.”
“Is that true, female?” The man turned to Keara, his face still hidden in shadows.
Keara glared at him, refusing to move her head.
“Did he touch you, or will I be your first?”
Oh, Goddess no. Please let Thoren come, please let Thoren come.
The Draconi laughed. “You’ll find me pleasing, don’t worry. I’ll unlock your powers and together we’ll wreak vengeance on the others. You’ll even enjoy it because I said you would.” He laughed again, the noise echoing in the room.
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