by Aimee Moore
“No time. I shall find more.”
Mindrik was already running, robes flapping over the pine needles.
“Dal! Let me go!” I kicked at him, and he let go. I slipped in the pine needles, righting myself long enough to grab the stick of fish before turning to Dal. He gave me an impatient sigh before grabbing my arm and hauling me along with him. I was glad for it, because I couldn't keep speed or balance on the slippery pine.
We ran, crunching and swishing over the waxy needles as my heart raced in my throat, the skeletal trees looming over us, bearing silent witness to our escape. A howl sounded back in the direction of our camp. I knew what would happen if we were caught, and the thought of what the Kraw would do to me paled in comparison to the thought of Dal being killed. I didn’t think I could summon that nova again, even if I tried.
I nearly lost my grip on the skewered fish twice as we fled, the trees whirring by at impossible speed, but I held on for life as we raced. Within minutes my side ached and my lungs were on fire. I wheezed, the acid of stomach bile rising up in my throat. I was going to be sick if I pushed myself any harder.
I went limp in Dal's large hand. He stopped, turning to me. “Seraphine.”
“Can’t... Going... To be sick… Dal...” I heaved between great, nauseating breaths.
Dal picked me up and continued running. I slowed him only a little, the stick of fish being a bigger hindrance than my weight. Bouncing up and down with Dal's steps, I looked over his shoulder into the distance we had traversed. There was nothing yet, only the wind rushing in my ears and the crunching of pine.
“How many?” Mindrik called over the pounding and crunching of feet.
“Too many. Do not stop,” Dal said.
As we ran, I never took my eyes off of the distance behind us, fearing that any moment I would see a dusky skinned army of warriors rushing toward us. Dal never seemed to tire, even carrying me, but Mindrik did in time. After nearly ten minutes of sprinting Mindrik stopped and hunched over, sucking in great breaths.
“I cannot carry two. Get up,” Dal growled.
“Don't you think I'm trying?” Mindrik growled back.
“We won't outrun them at this pace, we're too slow, Dal,” I said.
Dal's breathing had increased, and he was watching the hill of pine we had just crested. Shaking his head, he muttered a word in Kraw that I had never heard before, grabbing both myself and Mindrik and hauling us over his massive shoulders like sacks of wheat. He ran.
“You can't be serious!” Mindrik called over the pounding of Dal's feet.
I pushed up on Dal's back, my braid flopping over my shoulder, and watched the landscape grow smaller. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach when three Kraw war mutts materialized into view, spiked manes raised, muzzles pulled back into snarls.
“Dal!” I yelled.
With a grunt, Dal picked up speed, leaping over a trunk and nearly losing his balance in the pine. His breathing was coming like rapid bellows now, hard body working beneath me like a steel horse. The hounds were gaining, leaping over the log Dal had leaped over only moments ago.
Then Patroma, dressed in black spines, riding a Kraw war steed of leather stretched over bone, leaped the log next, followed by at least a dozen more Kraw on smaller mounts.
“Dal she's here!” I yelled.
“Seven hells!” Mindrik yelled. He raised his hands, coalescing great, steaming globs of water, hurling them into the distance. The Kraw steeds were both agile and sturdy, dodging the boiling water and smashing through anything else that got in their way. Dal's skin was slippery with sweat now, his breathing fast and hoarse.
I called my fire, called it with every cell of my being, but all I could make was a tall flame in my hand. I tried to throw it, and it went out the moment it left my hands. I cried out in frustration, trying again and again to make the fire obey me. It would not.
All too soon, the bone and leather warhorses and their riders surrounded us, the Kraw war hounds at Dal's ankles, snarling and snapping. Breathing harder than I'd ever seen him breathe before, Dal set us down, standing slow and tall, raising his chin to Patroma. The leather steeds stomped and rolled their marbled blue eyes, the armor of the warriors clinking.
Patroma hopped down, the spikes on her armor knocking together over the crunch of pine. She took commanding steps over to us, and Dal grabbed my arm and forced me behind him. I shoved at him and stood at his side, glaring up at Patroma.
She stopped in front of us, nostrils flaring as she sniffed. A tense moment passed between all as steeds stomped and armor clinked in the silent air. Patroma glanced at me and curled her lip in disgust. Dal tensed just before Patroma backhanded him, splitting his face with the spikes on her glove.
“You filth,” Patroma spat in their language. “Does your betrayal know no end?” She yelled so loud that her voice echoed through the empty trees. The riders smirked, some laughed. I was grateful that I was able to keep up with the conversation.
Dal stood tall, spitting blood at Patroma's feet. “There has been no betrayal.”
“Everyone here knows what you did with that groveling insect cowering at your side. You dare deny it?” Patroma's face was reddening.
I glared, even as my face flushed.
Dal's voice was calm. “To take a human against their will is acceptable, but a mating of choice is not? Is our species as a whole not past this racist barbarism?”
Patroma raised her fist again, this time stopping and lowering it. A slow smile curved her lips, and that scared me more than her violence. “Gralt,” she said to something behind her.
A large Kraw hopped down from his steed with a clink and the crunching of pine needles. He stood at Patroma's side. “Yes.”
“The female is yours. Keep her alive so that we may use her.”
My heart leaped up to hammer between my ears, making me dizzy, and Dal's grip tightened on me.
Gralt proceeded toward me with a greedy grin, and Dal had his sword at Gralt's throat in an instant.
“The female is mine,” Dal growled.
Axes and spears were drawn, pointed at Dal.
“Even a man who has nothing to lose has something to lose,” Patroma said to Dal. “If you kill your brethren, you will still die, and she will still be a flesh puppet for warriors. And when we complete our task and return home, she will die, cast aside like a filthy rag.”
Dal growled low in his throat, sending terror even into me, as he continued to press his blade into the warrior’s throat. “You have seen her power,” Dal said in a graveled voice. “Do not press.”
I went pale as I looked up at Dal. He knew I couldn't control it, why was he bluffing?
Patroma looked bored. “You fool, that is exactly why we wish to keep her alive. Power like that can level this tedious war and send us home.”
“Let her do it on her own. Without being used.”
“She cannot. If she had control over the flame she would have ended this confrontation long ago.”
“She will. She wishes to cauterize the wound her people drink from.” Dal removed his blade from the warrior's throat, slowly backing away. “Our goals are the same. Let us come to them under our own terms, and all shall live this day.”
Patroma stepped in close to Dal. “You are lucky you are not yet wearing the traitor's brand or I would bind you this day.” She knocked his sword away with a metallic smack of her gloved hand, grabbing Dal by the throat. He let her.
“Our goals are the same?” Patroma snarled. “What makes you think I believe the word of a traitor who lies with worms?” Patroma's bottom lip jutted out with hatred as she stared into Dal's face. Yet, I couldn't help but notice the hunger in her eyes, as if conflict heated her blood.
I glanced at Mindrik, wide-eyed with terror, and tried to get his attention.
“The people we conquer will write us into the history of their world. Logic and wisdom are as powerful as brute force and blind barbarism. Which would you rather the Kraw be
known for through the ages? What comes of the day when these people learn to march upon our world?”
Patroma shook him, and he gave an impatient sigh. “You fool, Kraw do not care what these festering worm huts think, Kraw save this dying rock and preserve the balance. That is all. It is weakness like yours that disrupts the Kraw objective. You are not even fit for the Warlord to look upon. And when we get back, you will be starved, beaten, and feasted upon by maggots and rats until the Warlord arrives to carry out your fate.”
Gralt stepped forward and pulled me away from Dal, causing me to drop the stick of fish at Dal's feet. Every muscle on Dal's body went rigid as the harsh warrior yanked me about. He lifted me by one arm, examining me like meat. I flailed as the world was sucked away from my feet.
“Put me down!” I yelled in my language.
The surrounding Kraw laughed, the war hounds circled.
“Tell me traitor, was she any good?” Gralt shook me by my arm as he spoke to Dal. “It has been a long time since I have taken a tiny human, do they still squeal when we split their hot flesh?”
Laughter rang.
“Dal!” I yelled, pulling at the steel fingers wrapped around my wrist.
“Let her go,” Dal growled.
“She is my property, on her oath, and I have given her to my second in command, on my oath,” Patroma said, shoving at Dal's neck.
Gralt's other hand grabbed at my sack shirt, but I wasn't going out without a fight. With a grunt, I dug my claws into Gralt’s hand and I called my fire. Hot flames licked their way out of my skin with a whisper of warmth, but I knew from the wide eyes of my tormentor that it did not feel the same to him. With a howl, Gralt dropped me, holding his hot, melted hand in a shaking claw, rage contorting his face.
I turned to Mindrik, scrambling to my feet. “Drown them!” I yelled.
“What?” Mindrik looked as if I had just told him to join the circus.
“Water, you idiot! Drown them all!” I yelled. My head snapped back as I was yanked to the ground by my hair with a heavy thud, and stars obscurred my vision as Gralt loomed over me, spitting a word in Kraw I had never heard before.
Dal sprung to action then, shoving Patroma backward into the line of warriors and steeds, slicing off Gralt's arm in one swift strike and pulling me to my feet. Blood spurted all over the brown pine as Gralt roared in anger and pain.
“You will die!” Patroma yelled.
“Mindrik!” I yelled behind me.
Mindrik was scuffling about in the pine, wide eyed, looking as if he might bolt any second.
Warriors were dismounting now, coming at us, and Dal's angry battle cry shook the trees and the very ground we stood on. I lit fire in my palms and tensed, ready to burn anything that came at me, and Dal was already giving his sword a twirl before charging in.
Just as Dal reached Patroma, water coalesced around her head, and Dal stopped mid swing, backing away with a furrowed brow. I calmed my breathing enough to look around me as well, and all of the Kraw had globs of water around their heads.
They swung wildly, some of them clawing, some yelling bubbles into the liquid, and some dropping to their knees. Dal wasted no time, he picked up my stick of fish and waved it at the war hounds, who sniffed at the meal, and then he threw it far off into the distance, the spiny hounds chasing after it.
I turned to Mindrik, who was shaking with the effort to maintain his spell, then back to Dal, who was marching toward the steeds with quick efficiency. Patroma was clawing at her face now, causing red to tint her glob of water as blood blossomed from the wounds she caused.
Dal, working quickly, sliced the legs out from under all of the steeds except three. Their awful shrieking pierced the air as they slumped and struggled, spurting orange from their severed limbs. Dal ran to me and hauled me atop one that was still standing. He grabbed the reins for the remaining two, climbed on behind me, and kicked the beast. Dal halted the steed next to Mindrik, pulled him up atop a spare beast, and kicked off.
“Do not kill Patroma,” Dal snarled over the hoof beats.
“Why in heavens not?”
“Do not or I will kill you,” Dal said.
I craned around Dal to watch as the band of warriors and their spiny leader grew smaller. Mindrik finally let the water drop to their feet, and most of them fell to their hands and knees, three slumping face-first into the pine. We rounded a tree and were out of sight.
✽✽✽
The river water was cool and relaxing on all of my sore parts. Riding all day had exacerbated some pains and created new ones. Dal was leaning back against a large rock, waist deep in the cool water, and Mindrik was sitting in the sunlight on the sandy shore, gazing off into the distance.
I waded over to Dal and sat next to him, but he picked me up and put me between his legs to lean back against his hard body. He rested his head back against the rock, looking for all the world as if he was content. The rush of bubbling water seemed to calm everyone's nerves. I glanced past Mindrik at the strange mounts. They looked as if they had been some breed of horse at one point, but had died and then had their bones and hides brought back to life. If not for the Kraw saddle I would have been impaled by the bony spine.
“What are they, Dal?” I asked in his language.
Dal lifted his head to see where I was looking, then rested his head back on the rock. “War mounts. Bred in the impassible desert of my home world, needing little food or water, and feeling little pain.”
“I despise that language,” Mindrik said, getting up. “I'll be back.” His voice was sour as he ambled past the steeds.
Dal and I ignored his cranky attitude.
“Are they alive?” I asked, looking the steeds over.
“Yes.”
I watched them droop their heads for a time, swishing tails that looked more like scorpion tails than horse hair.
“We almost weren't,” I said.
Dal's body shifted against me, and I turned to look into his eyes. His face had cuts all along his cheek where Patroma had struck him, alongside the other mostly healed injuries he had sustained from our first escape. The new injuries were already closed up. I turned my body all the way around, facing Dal and draping my legs over his.
“I would not have let harm come to you,” Dal murmured between us.
Giving a soft smile, I scooped up some water and began to clean Dal's injuries. His gaze never left me as I rinsed dried blood from his cheek. I turned his strong face, looking for more places to clean, and found more on his neck where Patroma had pierced his flesh.
Dal was patient with me, allowing me to touch where I wanted. I kissed the spots that I had washed, feeling Dal's heartbeat under my lips as I kissed his neck. I marveled at his magnificent body, capable of so many things, as I traced my fingers over the hard planes of his neck and chest. I brushed kisses wherever I pleased, enjoying every moment my lips met his skin.
Dal's large hands came under me, dragging me up close against him to straddle his lap, where his arousal pressed against me. His lively eyes looked into me, saying words I couldn't yet understand, before he tilted my chin upward and gave my lip a soft bite. I didn't know if the flowing sensation within me was from the cool water or the stirring sensations that Dal evoked as the bite transformed to a kiss.
Dal's kiss was tender and sweet, illustrating all the things that I could feel but not put words to. His hot heat throbbed into my sore spots, and I didn't care about the pain, I wanted to be closer, to feel him more. I wrapped my arms around Dal's neck and poured passion into the kiss, and he growled, grabbing my hips and grinding me onto him.
The pain was shocking, and I hissed between us. Dal stilled, drawing me away, and a tiny voice within me whined at the loss.
“You are still in pain,” he said.
“Is that normal?”
Dal let off a sigh through his nose. “Perhaps, when Kraw mate with humans, it is harder on the human.”
“Because I'm smaller than you.”
; Dal brushed some of the red hair that had escaped my braid behind my ear. “Yes. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Dal. Never be sorry for touching me the way you do.”
His gaze pierced me again, and Dal gave me a soft smile before brushing a kiss over my lips, pausing to suck my bottom lip, eliciting a groan out of me.
“The whiny one approaches,” he said.
I sighed, getting out of Dal's lap and sitting next to him again.
“There will be time, Sera. Heal and have patience.”
“Well those walking horse bones you call war steeds are not helping the healing process.”
“I will amend that.”
“I don't see how, there's no way—"
“You two are still sitting there?” Mindrik said, dropping an armload of wood.
We turned to look up at him, me wincing at the pain in my neck from having my head yanked back during our confrontation with Patroma.
“Come in, the water is nice,” I said.
“No thank you,” Mindrik said with a curl of his lip, busying himself making a fire. He was such a water snob.
“I don't know why you're bothering; we have no food to cook,” I said, frowning at my growling stomach.
“I saw a lizard while I was gathering,” Mindrik said in a curt tone.
I wrinkled my nose, unsure of just how hungry I really was when it came to lizard.
“We will find food soon, Sera, do not worry,” Dal whispered to me.
I got up to help a frosty Mindrik, and Dal's hand trailed down my arm, stopping at my fingertips, before he put both hands behind his head and resumed his relaxation. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned to Mindrik, who was busy and hadn't noticed the display.
After we had a warm fire roaring, Dal came and sat with Mindrik and I.
“How long will it take Patroma to find us this time?” Mindrik asked.
Dal gave a soft grunt of thought. “I cannot know for sure. Kraw war steeds are hard to track, especially in this terrain, and Patroma and her warriors had a long walk back to their village, perhaps days’ worth.” Dal lifted some pine needles and crushed them between his fingers, brooding. “We should not linger.”