by Tara West
Ura leaned toward him with the bowl in her hand, scooping up the liquid with an ivory-colored spoon. It was then that Markus was able to peer into the bowl.
Green slime! His need for food was replaced by the urge to vomit.
“What is that?”
“Broth.” She smiled serenely, unaffected by the long trail of snot dangling from the hovering spoon. “You will like it.”
Markus knew not what possessed him—mayhap it was the softness in her eyes when she smiled or that he was just a bloody fool—but he opened his mouth and let her feed him.
He gagged the moment a slimy tendril slid down the back of his throat. Like swallowing the entrails of a squashed slug! The taste was even fouler than the feel of it; a sickly-sweet blend of rotten eggs and fermented wine.
“Blah!” he gasped, reaching for the goblet on the slab. He drank until the water was drained, though he could not drink enough to purge the terrible taste from his mouth. “That is horrible!”
“What?” Ura’s pale eyes darkened as she jutted the bowl just below his chin, nearly sloshing the contents on his chest. “How dare you insult my food!”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot stomach this slime.” Grasping her slender wrist, Markus eased Ura and the offending broth away.
“You must eat if you want to get better.” Her pale gaze was steady, unrelenting.
“If I eat this, I may get worse,” Markus said, and involuntarily belched, nearly choking on the fumes of his bitter breath. “Have you no venison or hare?”
Her lips turned into a pout, Ura’s gaze fell on the bowl of steaming liquid that she placed on the slab. “I’ve not heard of those plants.”
“Not plants,” he said, shaking his head, “meat.”
“Meat?” With one slender brow arched, the girl looked at him with a quizzical expression.
“Aye.” Markus nodded. “From animals.”
“Oh!” Her lips formed a perfect ellipse as her eyes flashed with recognition. “We are out. Father and some others have gone to catch lazy-eyed serpents. They will return on the morrow.”
He shuddered at the image of slurping down slimy, cross-eyed snakes. “Lazy-eyed serpents?”
Ura nodded, while setting down the slab on a nearby stool. “They are good, soft and sweet.”
Markus repressed a grimace. How could these Ice People stomach such foul fare—food that did not even require chewing? “Do you have nothing tough and leathery?”
“Leathery?” Blinking once, Ura tilted her head, her pale lips turned down. “I don’t understand.”
Groaning, Markus coursed a hand through his hair, clenching a fistful at the roots. How could he make the girl understand what real food should taste like? Then an idea struck him: he had packed some dried meat for his journey. Though not as good as the fresh-salted leg of a roasted boar, surely anything was better than booger broth.
“Did my satchel survive the fall?” he asked.
“You mean the heavy brown bladder you wore on your back?”
Markus repressed a laugh. It was not a bladder, but made from the fine skin of a large buck he had shot the previous winter.
“Aye,” he answered, in no mood to teach Ura the difference between bladders and buckskins. “Would you fetch it here?”
Ura walked to the foot of Markus’s bed and lifted a thick white fur, revealing a large, snow-colored box. Markus could tell by the intricate carvings on the top that it was a chest of some kind, but how odd the color and smooth-looking texture, just like the slab and bowl. Perhaps it was made of a pale rock that only formed underground.
Ura pulled out his satchel and handed it to him. Markus relished the feel of the bag in his hand. He was relieved to see it had survived the fall. Opening it was trying work with one good arm, but he managed to loosen the strings and find what he needed - meat! His mouth watered as he shook the dried venison from the folded parchment. The bundle fell into his lap and he scooped up a large piece, eagerly biting off the end.
“Mmm, real food,” he sighed as he chewed. “Here, taste this.” He offered Ura the sawed-off end of his dinner.
Making a face and wrinkling her nose, she took the venison with the tips of her fingers. Turning the meat in her palm, she examined it with a scowl, as if searching for some unforeseen poison. Finally, she ripped off a small piece, placed it on the tip of her tongue and closed her mouth.
Markus watched the movement in her jaw and slender throat while waiting for her reaction.
“Ugh! This is horrid,” she said, wiping the offending residue off her tongue.
Markus wondered if she had even tasted his offering. “Have you gone mad?” he asked, trying not to laugh at her comical face.
Ura grabbed a goblet of water and took several gulps. “Those spicy sticks will not make you well.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Eat your dragon weed!”
“Dragon weed?” Markus chuckled. “Is that what you call that snot?”
Hands on hips, the girl scowled at him. “You are a very ungrateful, insulting man.”
A rush of heat swept through Markus and settled in his face, causing him to turn his gaze down. She had called him a man. Aye, yet he was anything but. A real man protected those he loved.
“I am not a man, Ura.”
“Oh, you look a man to me.”
The burning in his face intensified. Was she in earnest or was she mocking him? Had she seen through his ruse and known him for a coward? Or had she truly been fooled by his size?
Markus swallowed back a knot in his throat. “I am not quite sixteen winters.” He spoke with little conviction. He knew age was not all that mattered. Alec had once told him the mark of a man was in the strength of his heart.
Markus chanced to gaze at Ura’s pale features. She was eyeing him through slitted eyes, her slender arms folded across her chest.
“Well then,” Ura replied, flashing a complacent smile, “since I am a year your elder, I say you must eat your dragon weed.” Picking up the bowl, she held it beneath his nose.
At once, Markus was annoyed. Was this just a game to her? Had she not seen how her words troubled him?
“If you like it so much, you eat it!”
What happened next was truly by accident. Markus pushed the bowl away without thought or realization of his own strength.
Ura screamed as she lost her grip on the bowl and it toppled over the bed, splattering goo all over the shimmery wall and floor.
“Oh, look what you’ve done!”
The lump in Markus’s throat fell to his stomach with a thud. How could he have acted this way? “I didn’t mean to spill it.”
Ura’s gaze swept across the slop. “You’ve made a mess everywhere!”
“I’m sorry, Ura.”
Growling, she bent over the spill and scooped the slime into the bowl with a cupped palm. “It is not easy cleaning dragon weed off of ice.”
Markus tossed the meat into his satchel and pushed the furs off his legs, heedless of his throbbing skull. “Let me help you.”
“No! You must rest!” She stood up and pointed a pale finger, silently commanding him to stay in bed. “Eat your meat and leave me to this.”
But Markus no longer had the stomach for food, so angry was he with his own foolishness. He had made a mess of things with his brutish strength and, even worse, he’d upset Ura.
Markus wondered if he was to live his life acting on anger without thinking, striking out without a care for others. Was he destined to become like his father?
Chapter Nine
Ura sat cross-legged on warm furs while adding shards of ice to the cooking pot. The chamber where she prepared the family meals was small. Thick pelts padded the ice walls around her, offering warmth and comfort. But, tonight she did not feel comforted and the cooking chamber seemed even more cramped than before. Thoughts troubled her, from which she had no means of escape.
Silently, she leaned over the pot of herbs and added another stick of jagged ice. It melted
, but ever so slowly. She focused again on the pale warming stone beneath the pot, willing it to heat her brew. The stone turned the hue of amber and then all color faded.
Ura bit her lip, silently swearing. She had lost her focus — again. All thoughts trailed back to that foolish brute from above. When last she checked, he was asleep, and Ura hoped he would not wake until Father returned. Was he boy or man? She only knew that no one had ever affected her this way. No one had ever made her pulse jump with just one touch.
How could this land dweller, nearly the size of a snow bear, with eyes and hair blacker than the murky depths of Mystic Lake, move her in this way? She was not meant for this man-boy. She was not meant for anyone.
Ura had seen her destiny and love had no part in the horrible fate that awaited her.
“Where is your land dweller?”
Ura’s head spun. How dare Bane sneak up behind her while she was unaware!
Bane’s thin smile was cocked to one side. Folding long, lean arms defiantly across a narrow chest, he rested a bony shoulder against the wall. His small, round eyes, sunk in deep sockets, reminded Ura of a serpent’s cold stare. But his hair was what had always unnerved her—pale, like the hair of any ice dweller, with the exception of a thin, rust-colored line, which began at his left temple and ended at his nape.
Ura had never grown accustomed to the look of him or his aggressive temperament, and she had told him so more than once. So why was he always pestering her?
“What are you doing here, Bane?” Ura leveled him with a derisive glare as she came to her feet. “You know my father forbade you to call while he is away.”
“No, he forbade me to be alone with you.” Bane stepped nearer, closing the distance between them, until they were merely a few breaths apart. “And you are not alone, are you?” His beady eyes darkened. “Where is he?”
Ura stepped back, nearly stumbling on the fur beneath her. “Why do you care?”
Bane shrugged and a wicked gleam crossed his features. “I wish to see this dark giant for myself.”
“He is there, resting.” Ura pointed to the narrow doorway, leading to her brother’s room, where she hoped the land dweller still slept. “Now leave him be.”
Bane glared at the eel-skin covered doorway, his lip rising in a snarl, before turning his sharp gaze back on her. “They say you watch over him like a mother coddling a newborn babe.”
Heat infused her chest and flamed her cheeks. Why did Bane’s words upset her so? “He is injured. He needs care.”
“What of my needs, Ura?” Bane hissed, stalking toward her.
“Go find some other fool, Bane,” she replied, so tired of playing this game with him. “I do not want to marry you.”
Ura stepped back again. Tossing a glance behind her, she found that she was almost backed up against the wall.
If it was at all possible, the sharp features on his gaunt face softened. He continued to approach her with his arms splayed wide. “You do not know your own heart.”
Ura’s back hit the wall as Bane closed the gap between them. Her heart raced, not from lust or love, but anger. How could this arrogant fool presume to know her thoughts?
“I know my heart does not pine for you! Now get out!”
Bane stood still. Shaking his head, he blinked hard, looking stunned and confused. Heaving a breath, he ran wiry fingers through his hair. “When Ryne returns with promising news, you will be yourself again.”
“How do you know what my brother will find? Or if he will return at all?” Ura’s words ended on a sob. Biting down on her fist, she refused to let the tears fall. She would not allow Bane to believe he’d made her cry.
“Is that why you tend this land dweller? Do you seek to fill the void in your heart left by Ryne?” Bane took a slow step forward.
Ura nearly retched at the feel of his cool breath on her cheek. “Leave me,” she growled.
“No man understands you better than I, Ura. I know what you were doing the night you found the land dweller.” He reached out, cupping her shoulder in a tight grip.
“Let go of me!” she shrieked, pushing his chest.
It was like sticking her hands through a hollow drum. She knew Bane had less girth than a starved skeleton, but she had no idea of his frailty until that moment. He weightlessly stumbled back, grasping her arm and pulling her with him.
This time, Ura jerked free with all her might. Her chest heaved with strained breath and her flesh burned with stinging intensity. Never before had she been so angry. Had Bane thought he could behave like a fool without reproach? Did he believe his family’s name gave him the right to take freely what did not belong to him?
Bane caught himself on a nearby stool, just as he was about to tumble onto the floor. He stood upright, glaring at her with malice reflected in the stony depths of his tiny orbs.
Bane spoke in a low, venomous hiss. “You will not push me again, girl.”
“You will not touch her again!” The deep bellow rattled the tiny cave with dizzying force.
Ura could hardly believe the land dweller was standing before them, his expansive shoulders filling the room as he leaned against a wall for support. Ura could see pain in his strained features.
“Ah, so he awakens.” Bane bowed before Markus, his skeletal arms splayed wide as if he was paying homage to a goddess. All the while, his eyes glowed with amusement. “The mighty being from above!”
Ura paid Bane little heed for she could not take her eyes off Markus. He was not well and should rest, as she could easily defend herself against the likes of Bane.
“Markus, go back to bed. Your head has not healed.”
“I am healed enough to pound my fist through his face should he touch you again,” said Markus. His features were turned to stone, with the exception of his fiery gaze, which was locked on his adversary.
Bane stood upright and casually shrugged his shoulders. “Very well, I will leave, but I will be back.” He flashed Ura a thin smile. “I do not trust you with this giant.”
Ura heaved an exasperated breath as she watched Bane exit through the narrow opening, knowing he was off to tell his clan that he’d been threatened. Bane would do his best to make Markus’s stay with her people unbearable.
MARKUS WATCHED AS THE bony man scurried through the narrow doorway. A souring in his gut warned him that he would be back all too soon, bringing trouble with him.
He held his breath as another wave of pain coursed through his head. Markus did not know if the pain was due to the fall or the anger that had nearly split his skull in two. When he saw the man clawing at Ura’s arm, he had wanted to bash the fool’s head against the nearest ice wall.
Markus chanced to look at Ura. She was watching him, her mouth turned down in a heavy scowl. He thought she must have been angry with him for some reason, until he looked into her eyes. It was then that he nearly lost his wits.
Ura held him in her wide, yet soft, silver depths. At once he thought of his mother whenever she looked upon Alec; the tenderness and love she showed him when he was ill or after one of Father’s beatings. Ura motioned for Markus to sit on a low wooden stool.
Feeling the wall beside him with his good arm, Markus leaned onto the stool, cursing under his breath at the way his legs shook beneath him. After he’d sat and straightened his posture, he was almost at eye level with Ura. He was suddenly aware of the cramped chamber and the smell of sweet spices whenever she was near.
“I’m sorry for him, Markus.” Her voice held a soothing edge.
Markus swallowed a lump that had originated in the hollow cavity of his chest. Emotions threatened to envelop him and it took all of his will to push back the avalanche. Men did not react to such feelings as tenderness. Coughing once into his hand, he cleared his throat, channeling his feelings into anger toward the man who had assaulted Ura.
“Who was that fool?” he asked.
“Bane,” she sighed, “the first-born son of the House of Eryll.” She blew a wisp of pale hair t
hat had fallen across her forehead. “They are a very powerful family and Bane uses that power to his full advantage.”
Markus knew all too well about bullies who abused their power. “So he thinks to bully you into marrying him?”
Her eyes widened. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” He shook his head, trying to clear the dizzying rage that threatened to overcome him. “Don’t listen to him.”
“Has everyone I know been struck dumb?” she snapped. “I have said I will never marry him.”
Markus winced at her tone, choosing to remain silent rather than argue. Ura was on edge, and he sensed it had less to do with Bane’s intrusion and more to do with her brother. He couldn’t fault her there. Ever since Markus awoke, his dark thoughts kept wandering to Alec’s frail and bruised face. Who would care for his brother now that he and his mother were gone?
Markus covered his face and stifled a groan. Worrying over Alec was maddening when there was naught he could do until the blasted curse was lifted.
“Please don’t be upset, Markus. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
Markus looked up to see Ura leaning over him, her eyes fraught with emotion as she settled a pale hand on his shoulder.
“You have not upset me, lass. I worry for my brother.”
“You too?” Ura blinked hard, and her eyes watered over with unshed tears.
“Aye, he’s all by himself with no one to care for him.”
“As is Ryne.” Ura stood and began pacing the small chamber while twisting the frayed end of her belt around a slender finger. “He left without a partner. Who will save him if he is in trouble?”
A heavy fog settled in Markus’s head and he grasped the stool beneath him for support. Bane’s accusation echoed in his skull: I know what you were doing the night you found the land dweller.
“What were you doing the night you found me?” he asked, his voice shaking.
Ura stopped pacing and there was a hopelessness in her eyes that Markus recognized. He had seen the same look in caged animals. It was then he realized what Ura had been doing the night she’d found him; she had set out to find her brother, but was forced to rescue Markus instead.