by Susan Hayes
“The master is going to be furious,” she muttered as she crouched beside Vamir’s still form.
“Not really happy ’bout this, either,” Vamir muttered thickly, startling her so much she nearly lost her balance.
“You’re awake?”
“Sadly, yes.” He cracked open one swollen eye to look up at her. “I’m starting to hate this godsforsaken place.”
It amazed her that he could crack jokes in his current state. “Testing is not normally this…intense. Unpleasant, yes, but the master will be livid when I tell him what the apprentice has done.”
“He doesn’t like it when his merchandise gets roughed up?”
She ran a gentle hand over his back, taking inventory of every welt and bruise. “No, he doesn’t. You can’t be sold until those wounds heal. If anyone saw you right now, it would decrease your value. I don’t understand how this happened. I thought you had the ability to harden your skin so it acted like armor.”
Vamir couldn’t be sure, but he sensed real concern buried beneath Gwyneth’s blunt words. “I can, but that nasty little apprentice fellow was playing games. Sometimes he ordered me not to shift. I guess this means you’re stuck with me for a few more days, huh?”
“It would appear so. I must tell the master what’s been done to you. After that, I will gather up a few ointments and return to clean you up as best I can.”
“That would be appreciated,” he said.
The thought of her returning to tend to him did more to ease his pain than any ointment ever could. Her presence soothed him, and her delicate perfume wrapped itself around him, transporting him to sun-kissed fields and the safe havens of his childhood.
A puff of warm breath caressed his ear, and she whispered to him in his own language. “I remember now, guardian. Rest easy, I’ll be back soon.”
She vanished a heartbeat later, but her scent lingered on, as did the words she’d uttered. Those words filled him with hope, but they also told him that they didn’t have much time. If she knew what he was, then it wouldn’t be long before the torc would compel her to tell the master. They had to get away before that happened.
***
Chapter Four
Vamir drifted in a light doze until the sound of his cell door opening brought him back to full alert. Someone muttered a few words, and the room exploded into light so bright it made Vamir’s eyes water, despite the fact he hadn’t opened them yet.
“This is why I disturbed your study, master. The slave has been badly damaged, and I thought you would want to see for yourself.”
“I see. You were right to interrupt me this time.” The light dimmed slightly, and the sorcerer spoke again. “You will do everything you can to ensure he heals quickly and without complication. No one else is to go near him or interfere in your treatments.” There was a brief pause and Vamir swore the room temperature dropped several degrees. “Who did this to you, slave?”
Vamir opened his eyes and found himself the focus of the Magi’s cold gaze. “It was the apprentice, master. He said it was all part of the testing.”
The master hadn’t remembered to draw up his hood, and Vamir felt a wave of cold horror wash over him as he saw the other man’s face for the first time. The Magi’s skin was as dry and cracked as old parchment. In some places, it was so thin and stretched that Vamir could see the bones beneath. The Magi’s nose was withered, and his eyes were sunk deep into his skull. He was a walking corpse, his body being slowly devoured by the darkness that had already claimed his soul.
“Then he will be punished for this petty act of rebellion,” the master said before turning his gaze to Gwyneth. “You are to see to it the gargoyle is returned to a saleable condition and teach him what he needs to know. Until this is done, you have no other duties.”
“Yes, master.”
Vamir stayed still and quiet until the sorcerer departed. Once Gwyneth closed the door, he rose up on one elbow and asked, “What was that bit about a petty act of rebellion? I can tell you, it didn’t feel petty from my point of view.”
The last thing in the planes that Gwyn wanted to do was to admit that his suffering was her fault. If her master had given her to the apprentice, then none of this would have happened. “I’ll explain later. First, I need to see to your injuries. The master’s commands were very clear on that.”
“I learned today what happens when you try and resist a command for long. Do what you need, my questions can wait.”
She crouched down beside him, then turned her hand over so that he could see she had a few plant leaves cupped in her palm. “Chew these. They’ll take away the pain for a while.”
He stared at them suspiciously. “If that’s going to make me sleepy or mess with my head, I’ll pass.”
“You’ll still be clear-headed, but you’ll be in a lot less discomfort.”
He took the leaves and started chewing, grimacing when the bitter taste hit his tongue.
“These taste vile.”
“I never said they’d taste good,” she said and placed her hand on his shoulder. Lie still, I’m going to move you somewhere cleaner.”
Gwyn teleported them to her room. Her quarters were far from opulent, but they were clean, warm, and a far safer place for them to talk. It was the only place in the citadel where she had permission to use all of her powers, an exception the master had granted upon discovering she could permanently enchant items. His obsession with wealth had won out over his paranoia. So long as she provided him with a steady supply of items to sell, he allowed her this small freedom.
She rematerialized them both on her bed and smiled when she noticed that Vamir was so tall his feet hung over the edge of the mattress.
“Where are we?” Vamir asked, already looking around him with interest.
“My quarters.”
An impossibly smug smile turned up the corners of his mouth, and Gwyn’s pulse jumped. Even with his face bruised and swollen, his smile was enough to quicken her blood.
“You just popped me into your bed without even buying me a drink first? What kind of man do you think I am?”
“The kind legends are made of, guardian. Now, stop moving before you open those cuts up any further.” She turned away so he couldn’t see her blush.
“Is that any way to talk to a legend?” He settled himself more comfortably, stretched out face down on her bed with his head pillowed on his forearms. “I assume we won’t be overheard?”
“It’s safe to speak. The only one with permission to enter these quarters is the Magi, and he will be busy meting out punishments for what was done to you for quite some time.”
Vamir had known exactly where he was from the moment they’d materialized, he wasn’t going to admit it. He had no intention of confessing that he recognized her scent in the room and guessed where she’d brought him.
Her quarters were larger than his cell, but they were far from luxurious. It was warmer and cleaner than where he’d been living, but no one would ever mistake Gwyneth’s rooms for anything other than what they were, a prison. Even the barracks at the outpost offered more comforts than she had. A handful of robes and other garments were folded and placed on a wooden bench, with several pairs of soft shoes placed neatly on the floor below. There was little in the way of furnishings. Apart from the bed, there was a stand barely big enough to hold a washbasin and pitcher, and a stool placed close to the small hearth. The floor and walls were bare stone, and the only color he could see was in the faded patchwork quilt beneath him.
“Yesterday you didn’t seem to know anything about me, and today you do. What changed?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“I dreamed about you, well, about all the Garda, not just you. I think I remembered a pair of your kind that used to watch over me at night,”
Gwyneth glanced over her shoulder to look at him, and he caught the hint of pink to her normally pale cheeks.
Must have been a good dream…
“What did you dream of, little
one? Tell me.”
She turned around, a strip of cloth in one hand and pair of shears in the other. Behind her lay the remains of what must have been one of her few garments. She’d destroyed it to make bandages for his wounds.
“I dreamed about a great many things I haven’t let myself think about since I was summoned. Like my family and my home. There was a garden that I loved to play in…and two stone creatures with eyes like yours watching over me from the ledge outside my window when I went to bed.”
“Do you remember their names?” Vamir asked. He knew their names. He also knew that the brothers had never forgiven themselves for letting Gwyneth be summoned, despite the fact there was no way they could’ve stopped it. They had come to him in the final days before the portal closed, requesting a place in his company so they could continue searching for Gwyneth.
Gwyn concentrated, and suddenly their names came back to her in a flash of insight. “Aztar and Akhal. I think I called them Az and Ak, though.”
“I’m glad you remember them. They were your protectors. They’d say they still are.” Vamir patted the mattress beside him. “I have a lot to tell you.”
“You can talk while I tend your injuries.” Gwyneth gathered up the makeshift bandages, the pitcher of water, and the ointment she’d found and joined him on the bed. It was strange having him in her quarters and stranger still to see him in her bed.
“The others got in a few good shots near the end. I was tired enough I let my guard down.”
From what Gwyn could see, he’d been hit more than a few times. More like a few dozen by her count. She dipped the cloth in the water and started to wash away the gore that covered his back. “You said that Az and Ak were still my protectors. Do you know them?”
“Aye, I know them.” Vamir watched her work, his big body relaxed, and his expression unguarded. “I’m the commander of the last Garda outpost. We volunteered to stay and guard the last gateway. Aztar and Akhal are part of my company. They asked to join so that they could keep searching for you. They’ve never stopped looking for you, little one. They promised your parents they’d bring you home someday.”
Gwyn’s mind reeled, and her hands were shaking as she continued cleaning his back. “I don’t understand. What gateway? If there are some of you left, why has no one heard anything about my people or yours since our plane ceased to exist?”
“Our home is exactly where it always was, but the elementals found a way to seal it off from the other planes. They had to, to protect it from the Magi. You know their kind of magic consumes and twists the essence. Our races were being threatened, and one of the basic components of our home plane was being destroyed, so they did the only thing they could. They retreated from a war they couldn’t win.”
“So, I can’t go home to Essa, and neither can you?” She didn’t know how to feel about all she’d been told. To know that home was still out there but unreachable was somehow worse than thinking that it was all gone.
“There’s still a way to get home. When the war ends and the last Magi is dead, we’ll be able to see Essa again.” Vamir had started to question if any of them would ever go home. He’d been haunted by doubts that only grew with the passing of the years, but now he believed once more. He’d found Gwyneth and located the enemy all on the same day. That had to be a sign.
“And my parents?”
Gwyn’s fingers were trembling hard enough he could feel it through the cloth she held, and her voice was thick with barely restrained emotion. Vamir turned onto his side to face her. He caught her hands and cradled them within his own. “They had to stay, little one. They were the ones who created the spell that sealed the plane, so they had to remain on the other side to cast it.”
“They left me with him. All this time, I’d convinced myself that they must be dead. They had to be because I cannot imagine a parent leaving their daughter to face the life I’ve had.”
She tried to jerk her hands out of his grip, but Vamir didn’t let her go. He couldn’t, not when she was in so much pain. He pulled her against his chest, releasing her hands to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She stiffened and tried to pull away, every move she made pressed against the bruised and torn flesh of his body, but he ignored it. She may not want to be comforted, but he knew deep in her heart, she needed this.
Finally, she went still, her face pressed to his shoulder and her entire body trembling with the force of the emotions coursing through her.
“I’m sorry, little one. I’m not good with words. I should have found a better way to tell you all of that. I didn’t mean to upset you.” The thought that he’d hurt her was more agonizing than any of the injuries he’d received today, and he’d do damned near anything to make it better.
“I don’t know what I am, really. Mad, hurt, unhappy, and relieved all tangled up together, I think. It’s too soon to tell.” She didn’t move before speaking so her words were muffled, and her breath was a warm caress against his bare skin.
“I hit you with a wagonload of information a moment ago. You’re allowed a few minutes to wrap your head around it all.”
“Only a few minutes? Why the rush?”
He pressed his hand against the small of her back and tried not to be distracted by the way her body fitted to his perfectly. “Well, once you’re ready, we need to talk about how we’re getting out of here. Both of us. Ak and Az would kill me if I showed up at the outpost and admitted I left you behind, so you are going to have to come with me.”
Instead of the smile he’d hoped to elicit, Gwyneth sighed. When she lifted her head to look at him, her quicksilver eyes were stormy with regret and sadness. “I may be able to get you free of this place, but I won’t be going with you.”
“I’m not leaving you behind. My entire race was created to protect your race. There’s no way I’m going to abandon you to your master and his apprentice.” He reached between them until his fingers brushed the edge of her slave torc. “I want to see you without this vile thing wrapped around your neck.”
That light contact shifted the metal away from her skin, revealing the rise of an angry red welt beneath the metal. “What in the hells?”
“I’m supposed to be treating your injuries, not the other way around,” Gwyn said before moving his hand away from her throat.
“That was when I thought I was the only one who had any injuries,” he grumbled and batted away her hand to lift the collar again. The inflammation only appeared where the metal made contact. Everywhere else her skin was pale as moonlight and without flaw.
“It’s the collar,” she finally admitted. “The spells etched into it are designed to capture and twist the essence. Since that same essence flows through me, the two are in constant conflict. The more I use my powers, the worse the reaction. Today I cast a fair number of spells. Thus, my skin is inflamed.”
She said it calmly as if she were discussing the weather and not her perpetual suffering. It made him wonder how much pain someone needed to endure before it stopped mattering. He wanted to take her away from this cursed place and find a way to protect her from ever hurting again. The feeling was almost overwhelming, hitting him harder than any blow he’d taken during his testing. He’d felt it before, last night. At the time, he’d assumed it was because she was an elemental, the first one he’d come across in so long that his deep-seated instinct to protect were kicking in. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
In many ways, the Garda were like their creators. They could both channel the essence to teleport themselves short distances and create portals that allowed them to move across worlds or even planes of existence. They were both similar in appearance, and both races were gifted with the ability to recognize their soulmates. Mates were drawn together, aroused and intrigued by each other, their unique energies harmonizing. Because of his singular birth, Vamir never expected to feel another soul call out to his. He thought he would live his life alone. What he felt for Gwyneth, however…he was starting to think he’d been wrong.
Gwyn didn’t know what to make of the man who held her so gently and who cared about her comfort. In the short time she’d known him, Vamir had shown her more tenderness and compassion than she had experienced in her entire life. “It’s what I normally use, yes. But you have to let me see to your injuries first. After all, I am not the one currently bleeding on the only blankets we have.”
“Shit! Sorry.” He started to get up, but she put her hand on his chest to stop him.
“Stay still, Vamir.” She added a tone of command to her words, and the collar forced him to comply.
“That was sneaky,” he muttered, shooting her a baleful look.
“I will not apologize for making you hold still. It’s for your own good. I still have to clean up the rest of you and then apply the ointment. Please let me do this for you.” Her throat tightened as she forced herself to confess the truth. “It’s my fault you were beaten like this. I want to try and make up for it.”
He tried to reach for her, but the collar interfered. “Damn it, Gwyneth! What do you mean it’s your fault? And for fuck’s sake, will you release me already?”
“Sorry. You’re free to move as you wish, but I hope you’ll hold st—” She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before he sat up and tugged her into his lap. The bowl of water she’d been using to wash him was knocked over, soaking the hem of her robe and once again Gwyn found herself wet and in Vamir’s arms.
“Now, I want to hear why you think you’re responsible for my slightly tenderized state.”
His tone was one of a leader unused to being refused, but his hands were gentle as he held her. If anyone else had manhandled her that way, she would have been terrified and lashed out, but Gwyn knew he didn’t mean her any harm. She couldn’t explain how she could be so confident, but she was.
“This morning, before the master sent me on an errand, he told me that his apprentice had asked for me again. The apprentice was…insistent, and the master chose to teach him a lesson. Raul took his anger out on you.”