The Armor of Light

by Karen E. Hoover

  He grinned like he’d just won the village lottery. “Thank you, Mistress Kalandra! Thank you! You need do nothing more unless you wish. The entire group is welcome. Please. Come soon,” he said, grabbing her hands and squeezing tight, then he turned and ran toward the village, presumably to prepare for her arrival.

  With a few final hugs, kisses, and thanks from the villagers, Kayla was able to go and tell the rest of the group of the blessing of a bed and hot food for the night. She was pretty sure they wouldn’t mind.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ember sat up with a start, her lower back wracking with spasms that had her whimpering as she arched against it. Evidently she had fallen asleep while leaning on DeMunth’s chest and her body was paying for it now. She shut her eyes and used her knuckles to rub at the kinks, but it wasn’t working. She stood, about to bend and stretch as best she could, when a large hand reached out, turned her around, and told her with his mind voice, “Straddle the chair and sit.”

  Ember looked over her shoulder to find DeMunth sitting up in bed and looking as refreshed and whole as ever. The knot in her stomach and ache in her heart immediately eased, knowing he was okay. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and nudged Ember down on the chair so the back was facing her. Then his hands went to work.

  Those thick, callused hands that had seemed so strong on a cudgel now gentled as they kneaded her lower back like bread dough. He wrapped his fingers around her waist and used his thumbs in a circular motion that made her want to melt. She relaxed against the chair, not even caring that wooden slat dug into her cheek. Whatever he was doing felt good.

  Ember sighed as he moved upward from her lower back to kneading between and beneath her shoulder blades, then moving into her neck. It had felt nearly tight as stone as of late. She’d most definitely had a lot going on in her life to cause stress, and it had settled right in her shoulders, though she hadn’t realized how much so until DeMunth found the knots and roots roping through her muscles. She groaned, not sure if it was in pain or pleasure.

  DeMunth chuckled, his voice taking on a metallic tone it hadn’t held before. She wondered if he even knew he had a new tongue. Had he discovered it yet? And what was it like? Was it hard and cold like metal? Or warm and soft like a flesh tongue? That thought left her a little breathless, especially as DeMunth chose that moment to dig his strong fingers into her hair and scalp. It felt so very good, she didn’t want him to ever stop.

  “You have got to show me how to do this,” she said aloud the moment she could force her thoughts into coherent order.

  DeMunth chuckled again, that same metallic tone ringing bell-like through his voice, though he didn’t answer her vocally. “Massage is one of the techniques I was taught by the priests of Sha’iim. It is very valuable in creating a meditative state.”

  “You can say that again,” Ember said, leaning her head back into his hands. She felt completely malleable, and yet unable to move. She’d never felt anything so wondrous and was disappointed when he gave her hair one final tug and stopped. Ember groaned and turned around quickly, wanting to grab those hands and put them back in her hair.

  Instead, he captured her hands and, one at a time, picked them up and used his thumbs to press away the tension. Ember leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, still unable to form thoughts. He pressed on the fleshy part of her thumb and stroked it as if he were molding clay, then stretched her palms and twisted and pulled on each finger individually, then moved up to her wrist and elbow. Then he repeated the process on the other hand.

  When he was done, Ember’s hands sat relaxed in her lap, and she could barely move. She could see how it could induce a meditative state. Or sleep. She definitely felt like she could fall right back to sleep at the moment, could especially fall back into DeMunth’s arms.

  She pulled away from that thought. He was DeMunth. Councilmember and her elder by far too many years for her to consider any possibilities with him. And yet . . . she couldn’t deny the pull she felt toward this man. It felt almost as if they were two halves of the same whole, but she had just come to trust her family—how could she so fully trust this stranger she barely knew?

  She didn’t understand it, and yet somehow she did exactly that.

  Unwilling to face the thoughts any longer, she turned to meet his eyes. “Do you remember anything of the last few days?”

  DeMunth cocked his head in his quirky way. “I remember defending you from the shadow people. I remember coming to the caves and entering. I vaguely remember attacking somebody I thought was a threat to you and falling through a portal, but beyond that, it’s a blank. It’s been days, you say?” His surprise tickled her mind.

  Ember filled him in on the rest. How his armor had failed him and he’d fallen into a coma. How she’d come to talk to him after her disastrous classes and fed him soup. How the spoon had melted in his mouth and she’d fed him multiple spoons before the armor came back. DeMunth watched her dumbfounded, but she could see his tongue moving in his mouth. He looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or appalled.

  “So you can talk now. You said my name when you woke at first, then you fell asleep again.” Ember blushed as she said it. “I think maybe the armor knew your body was incomplete, and that’s why it reacted the way it did. It couldn’t completely fit itself to you unless you were whole, because as soon as your tongue was formed, it flared up bright as could be, covering every inch of you.”

  “I can talk now?” he asked, his mental voice hesitant.

  Ember nodded. “Try it.”

  He leaned in close, his hand coming up to caress her jaw line. Chills ran through her. That was not a massage type of touch. It was very, very personal. Ember’s stomach started to flutter about. DeMunth leaned in close, his breath so close she could feel it brush her face and caught the scent of his soup and the metallic tang of his tongue. “Ember,” he said, his face registering surprise and joy as his mouth actually worked. “After all these years.” He sighed. “It feels marvelous to speak. Ember,” he said again, a huge grin spreading across his face. His eyes softened as he met hers and spoke her name once more. “Ember,” he said in both mind and voice, then leaned forward and met her lips with his own.

  Ember had never been kissed like that before. She’d had Mum kisses, brotherly kisses, and even a quick peck from one of her schoolmates when she was a child, but she’d never had a kiss that made her melt. She’d always thought the idea of a kiss stopping your heart or your breath was childish or silly, but now she felt it herself and understood.

  Her breath stopped, her heart fluttered, and she couldn’t get enough of the taste of him. His lips were soft, his jaw unshaven and prickly, but she didn’t care. His silver tongue darted between her lips and she finally tasted him and realized that his tongue was every bit as warm and supple as a human one would have been. She reached her arms around him and threaded her fingers through his hair, inhaling every bit of him she could.

  The kiss affected her to her very soul, and for a second she was thrust back out of her body, watching as the heartrope between them changed from a thin thread to a chain thick as sailor’s rope. It was beautiful, but a chain nonetheless, and in that moment she was thrust back into her body and pulled quickly away from him. DeMunth was left panting, his eyes hungry. Ember knew she looked the same. Her body wanted nothing more than to be reunified with him and to melt until they were completely one being enmeshed in the other, but she couldn’t. She didn’t dare. That chain had her scared. Chains meant she was captive, reminded her of the experience in the cave with her kidnapper, Ian Covainis. She knew it was ridiculous to be afraid of DeMunth, but the reminder of her terror, feeling so helpless, threw up the walls between them once more.

  She scooted back, the chair scraping along the stone floor as she stood. DeMunth looked at her, confusion obvious in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked with his newfound tongue. She would have thought his voice would be scratchy with disuse, bu
t then he did sing nearly every day. That probably accounted for the clarity. Ember shook herself. She couldn’t think about it right now. She had to go. She had to get some space before she fell under his spell. She needed to think.

  “Class. I’ve got to get to class. And breakfast. I’ve got to go. I’ve got to go now,” she said, backing toward the door, knowing she made little sense.

  “Wait, I’ll go with you,” he said.

  Just then, Lily, Rahdnee, and Brendae stepped into the healing hall, looked around, and spotted Ember. She froze in place, unable to say anything to anyone about what she’d discovered, that C’Tan was Rahdnee’s master and Lily’s mother. If she told DeMunth, he wouldn’t be able to defend her—not against three of C’Tan’s most chosen disciples. She debated on whether to tell him the problem using the mindspeech that had grown so normal between them, but no. If he knew she was in danger at all, he would do anything he could to guard her. To protect him, she had to leave, but she couldn’t leave without them. They approached her and acted as if nothing were wrong.

  “There you are!” Rahdnee said. “You’ve been eluding us, you little rascal.” He rubbed Ember’s head as if she were three instead of sixteen. “It’s class time. We’re to escort you to the training room. And look, we even brought breakfast.” He grinned in a way that made Ember uncomfortable.

  “Excuse me, who are you?” DeMunth asked from behind her, his metallic tongue resonating in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, I’m Rahdnee. We’ve met, but you don’t remember, I’m sure. I carried you here when you passed out.” Rahdnee reached across Ember and shook DeMunth’s hand. She wanted to bristle, to shove him away, but that would only make matters worse. She couldn’t let him know that she knew his secret, or DeMunth would die and she probably would as well.

  DeMunth shook Rahdnee’s hand, his eyes brightening as a smile lit up his face. “Ah! Well, thank you, then. I appreciate it. And I assume you’re taking care of my girl while I’m laid up?” He said the last almost as if he owned Ember. It made her feel a little prickly.

  “Yes, sir. We’re taking your place until you are well again,” Rahdnee said, turning and rejoining Brendae and Lily.

  “Good. Take good care of her. I intend to relieve you of your duties very soon.”

  Rahdnee chuckled as if he had no problem with that, but Ember knew his orders. That had to be one of the last things he wanted. Now she feared even more for DeMunth’s safety. What if the guards tried to poison him or kill him in his sleep? She had to tell someone, and soon. She glanced at Lily. Just as she was starting to like and trust the girl, she turned out to be on the enemy’s side.

  Or was she?

  Ember watched Lily glance from DeMunth to Rahdnee, then to Ember. Her eyes were full of concern and fear. If Lily was afraid, maybe there was more to her than what her parents designed her to be.

  Ember stuck it in the back of her mind. She turned to leave when DeMunth took her arm. “Will I see you later?” he asked, sounding almost desperate.

  Ember hesitated, then nodded, glancing at the temporary guards. He dropped his hand from her arm and she left with her three enemies, hoping against all hope that they wouldn’t try something today. Not until DeMunth got his strength back and she had a chance to tell someone about the enemies hidden in their midst.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The village inn was much nicer than Kayla had expected. Most of the inns in Darthmoor had wooden tables and dirt floors and stank of ale and rotten food that had fallen between the rushes. This inn had stone floors, sticky here and there, but for the most part clean, and instead of square wooden tables made out of old weathered wood, they were made of stone. Slate, she guessed, though she didn’t know for sure. She wasn’t a stonemason or anything, but it reminded her of the flooring at Dragonmeer. She’d asked about it once and Brant had told her it was slate from his family’s quarry. She’d never forgotten the look or feel.

  The whole group, minus Jayden, who seemed to have disappeared, sat at a large table together, wooden chairs pulled up to the round stone. Kayla wasn’t sure how they managed it, but somehow Niefusu ended up on one side of her and Brant on the other. T’Kato sat across the table, shaking his head and grinning, and everyone else was oblivious to the competition still going on between the boys. Brant hadn’t let go of her hand since they’d sat down, and it was really starting to get annoying. Actually, she’d been annoyed with the two of them pretty much all day. Niefusu would occasionally bump her leg or foot with his—she knew what he was doing. It turned out that her mother was right. All men were the same.

  A cute red-headed waitress came to the table. “What can I get you?” She looked to Kayla first. She opened her mouth to answer, but Brant beat her to it.

  “She’ll have a glass of milk, some bread, and soup if you’ve got it. Same for me, while you’re at it,” he said, not even glancing at Kayla. Her jaw dropped open in disbelief. Since when did he start ordering for her? It’s not like they’d freqented inn’s very often, but he had never ordered for her. He should have known better. And when did a bowl of soup ever satisfy her hunger? She was starving. She wanted red meat and potatoes and a huge mug of cider, and that was just for starters, but she was too shocked by Brant’s behavior to say a word.

  The rest of the table ordered their food, and Kayla sat there and fumed. She tried to pull her hand out of Brant’s, but he wouldn’t let go, which made her even angrier. What was wrong with him? Why was he being so possessive? Didn’t he trust her?

  The longer she sat, the more livid she became. She couldn’t look at anyone because she knew if she did, she would explode. The evening, had been so beautiful—why did he have to ruin it?

  When the food came, Kayla tried to pull her hand from Brant’s so she could eat, but he squeezed even harder, eating with his left hand so he could cling to her with his right.

  That was it. The final straw. Kayla yanked her hand out of his and stood in one motion, then picked up the bowl of warm soup and cup of milk and dumped them both over Brant’s head.

  The entire table went silent, the room following shortly thereafter. Brant gasped and sputtered, his eyes more shocked than angry. Kayla leaned down close to him so she could speak softly. If she didn’t, she would scream. “I am not your possession, Brant. You don’t own me.” She pulled all the bracelets off one by one. “I thought you trusted me. I thought you got it through your thick skull last night that I am not going anywhere, but no. The two of you have to continue this ridiculous competition for my attention.” She glared at Niefusu too, who was grinning from ear to ear. He didn’t care how upset she was. All the more reason to reject him.

  Kayla leaned down until she was inches from Brant’s face. “I belong to no man, do you understand me? No man!” With that, she picked up the charm bracelet he had given her and threw it in his lap, then spun away from the table and marched up the stairs before she burst into tears. She had no idea where she was going, only that her room was up there somewhere and that’s where she wanted to be at the moment.

  The wood creaked beneath her feet as she found the upper floors and walked down the long stretch with doors on her left and railing overlooking the large dining room on her right. She could see Brant cleaning himself up. The men were all laughing at his predicament and he seemed more embarrassed than anything. That stoked the fire of her fury. Stupid man. Stupid, stupid man! She found herself mumbling it under her breath as a serving girl walked by, carrying an arm full of sheets. The girl looked at her funny as she went past.

  Kayla kicked herself for her idiocy, then despite her embarrassment, stopped the girl. “Can you tell me where my room is? I never found out which one was mine.”

  The girl cocked her head and smiled, looking over the railing. “Ah, you’re that one, are you?” Kayla reddened. “He must have deserved it for that kind of act.” The girl chuckled, and Kayla gave her a half smile. “I can show you the way, miss, but I know you’ve been on the road for a bit, and wonder
ed if you’d like to use the bathing pools before you sleep.”

  Kayla nearly melted into the floor at just the thought of a bath. “Oh, yes, please!”

  The girl nodded. “Let me just set these down and I’ll show you your room and the baths both.” She disappeared for a moment, then returned with one set of sheets, a towel, and a night robe for Kayla. Squeezing past, she beckoned with her head, not a word spoken. At the third from the last door, she stopped and fiddled with the knob and swung the door open. “This one is yours, miss,” she said, setting the sheets on the bed. “Here’s your key.” She handed Kayla a tarnished key and immediately exited the room. “The baths are this way.”

  Kayla left her bag in the room, pulled the door shut and made sure it was locked, then followed the girl. They continued down the hallway and descended three flights of stairs until they were actually beneath the inn. There the girl led her down another hallway, where the walkway ended and one had to turn either left or right. They turned right. “The other way is the men’s baths,” the girl explained as they entered the cave-like structure. “Laundry washing is in the small pool, bathing in the large. Soap for each is near the pool.” She seemed in a hurry, but she paused for a moment and said, almost shyly, “I was there when you played tonight, Miss Kalandra. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” And then she was all business again. “Enjoy your bath.” The girl turned and disappeared.

  Kayla intended to do just that.

  After washing her clothes, her hair, and enjoying a long soak in the hot water, Kayla exited the pool and dried off. She wrapped herself in the robe, bundled her wet clothes in the towel, and, boots in hand, walked back up the hallway and stairs, and found her room without any trouble.

  She shut the door behind her and tried to figure out a way to dry her clothes—there wasn’t a clothesline strung across the window. She looked a little closer and began to smile. There was a deck outside her overlooking the roof, and that deck had a railing. It would be the perfect place for the sun and wind to dry her clothes. She went outside and laid everything out, including her underthings. A week ago, she would have been embarrassed to have them hanging from a railing, but she was far beyond the point of being embarrassed over it now.