Alaskan Fury (7 page)

Chapter 4:
The Shifting of the Sands

Kaashifah marched north along the
fast, gray waters of the Yentna River in a rage.  She wasn’t surprised by the
djinni’s stubbornness, but still it grated at her.  Good people were going to
die
,
bled for their magics by selfish, morally defunct, power-hungry oathbreakers,
and here the djinni was forcing her to trounce through the woods to make deals
with serpents, when honor said they should resolve their problems between
themselves for the good of all.

‘Aqrab would pay for this with
his life.

Right after she gave him to the
dragons for safe-keeping.

When the djinni appeared before
her again, the weak fall sun had dropped below the horizon and its feeble rays
had melted most of the frost on the round river stones beneath Kaashifah’s
feet.  ‘Aqrab arrived without warning, as he always did, blocking her path like
an obsidian statue.

“You and I,” the djinni growled,
without preamble, “need to come to an understanding, Fury.”

Kaashifah fought the immediate
surge of panic at ‘Aqrab’s sudden appearance and re-composed herself quickly. 
While it frayed her nerves to stand her ground, she did not allow herself to
retreat out of arm’s-reach of the massive beast.  To do so would have admitted
she was afraid of him, and she would rather die than have the djinni witness
her fear once again.

Lifting her head in feigned
arrogance, Kaashifah sneered, “An understanding of what, beast?  The terms of
your death?”

His face tightened at the word
‘beast,’ as it always had, but at least he didn’t seem to recognize the fear
thrumming through her veins, the same ancient terror that had been with her
since the day she’d left her sword buried in the sands of an oasis, her hands burned
to the bone from where its hilt had seared her skin.  “The terms of our
arrangement, mon Dhi’b,” he rumbled, his arms folded over his big chest.  “I
would offer a bargain, of sorts.”

Kaashifah laughed.  “A ‘
bargain
,’
‘Aqrab?  You think I have spent three thousand years bound to a djinni and have
not learned to avoid a Fourth Lander ‘bargain’ at all costs?”

He narrowed his violet eyes at
her.  “I would remove my curse.  You would be free to kill again, little wolf.”

Kaashifah’s heart stopped.  Never
before had the djinni offered the removal of his deathbed curse outside the
context of a wish.  A wish, of course, that both of them knew he would mangle
just as thoroughly the first two times she’d wished it. 

Warily, she glanced back up at
the djinni.  Somehow, she sensed that this time, ‘Aqrab was being truthful, and
that thought left her heart suddenly slamming against her ribcage.  The ability
to kill again…  It made her blood sing with hope.  She had long ago given up
any real optimism that he would ever willingly remove his deathbed curse, and
that he was offering now, when she needed it most, left her both ecstatic and
suspicious. 

“And what would you want in
return, djinni?” she asked, carefully keeping her excitement from her voice. 
Unfortunately, she couldn’t kill the djinni with just teeth and claws.  Surely
he knew that, which was probably the only reason he was offering. 

“Relinquish your shadow,” ‘Aqrab
said, watching her closely.  “Give up your ability to hurt me, mon Dhi’b.  Do
me that favor, and I will lift my curse.”

This time, Kaashifah
did
take a step backwards, automatically reaching for the djinni’s soul-cord in her
mind.  “You would leave me helpless against you.”

“
Helpless
, mon Dhi’b?” he
snorted.  “You carry the Third Lander wolf with you, and if you follow through
with your scheme to pass me on to the dragons, you doubtless shall have your
full glory returned to you after that.”

“And the time between now and
then?” Kaashifah demanded.

He shrugged.  “We’ll come to an
understanding.”  He lifted a hand, reaching out for her.  “You’ll have to trust
me.”

“You cross dangerous sands,
‘Aqrab,” she warned, preparing a fistful of shadow, should she need to keep him
at bay.

He cocked his head at her,
irritation flashing in his unnatural purple eyes as he dropped his hand. 
“Why?” he demanded.  “Because I ask that you stop treating me as an animal?” 
This time he took a step towards her, anger lighting his face.  Leaning down
until their noses almost touched, he said too softly, “I saved your
life
,
little wolf.  I spirited you from those who would have spent years draining
your lifeblood from your veins.  How did you repay me?  You drowned me in
shadow so deep I had trouble breathing for hours.”  Fierceness glared back at
her, spurring that inner terror to a crescendo.  “Show some decency, Fury, and
give me back my dignity.”

“Keep your distance, slave,”
Kaashifah babbled, fighting a growing surge of panic at his new persistence.  She
stepped back again.

“I am
not a slave
,” ‘Aqrab
snarled, stepping forward until their bodies again almost touched.  “Learn
that, unless you would like for me to begin addressing you as ‘whore’ or
‘slut.’  I am of noble birth, and I find it similarly offensive.”

Kaashifah scrambled to once more
put distance between them.  “I will keep it under advisement,” she managed,
scrambling to keep the obsidian mountain before her from seeing under her
facade.

He narrowed his eyes at her. 
“Good.  Now relinquish your hold on the shadows.  I tire of your ‘punishments,’
mon Dhi’b.  I’ve reached the point in my life where I can do without touching
you, if it truly bothers you for me to do so.”

“I would be a complete fool to
give you that boon, and we both know it,” Kaashifah blurted.

The djinni stepped closer again,
oblivious to the way she grabbed his cord in a mental death-grip.  “Like I
said, magus,” he growled, his face much too close to hers, “You and I are going
to come to an understanding.”

“Back
up
,” Kaashifah
cried, panting, once more reluctantly ceding ground to the beast.  “I don’t
want to use shadows on you, djinni, but I—”

“Then don’t,” ‘Aqrab interrupted,
forcefully stepping forward again.  Never had he been this brazenly adamant
about anything, and it was scouring her chest in a wash of panic.  “Relinquish
that power over me and you shall be freed of my curse.  On my honor as a
Sand-Singer.”  His gaze was intense, demanding.  Passionate.

Kaashifah met his eyes and, for a
breathless moment, almost believed him.  Then she remembered the first two
wishes he had ‘granted’ her—morbid, twisted things that bore no resemblance to
their original form—and she shook herself.  “You spin your words like a
weaver’s thread, cutting and twisting them to suit your own needs.  I’m too old
to be making bargains with Djinn.”

“Old you may be,” the djinni
growled, “but not wise.  I’m offering a truce, magus.  The dragons may be able
to remove the Third-Lander, but I’m the only one who can lift my deathbed
curse.  What good will it do you to gain your wings if you still can’t wield
your sword?”

Kaashifah peered up at him
haughtily, trying to hide the way her knees tried to collapse beneath his
stare.  “And why,” she said, searching his eyes in challenge, “would a djinni
wish I give up my ability to ‘punish’ him, unless he planned to misbehave?”

The djinni’s lips quirked in an
impish smile.  “I suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you, little wolf?”

“I
know
what you want,”
Kaashifah growled.  “And you will never have it.  Not from me.”

He returned her stare with
fierceness.  “Then the Fury is afraid?”

Yes,
she thought,
miserable.  “Of course I’m not afraid.”

“Then what can you lose with
granting me this boon?”

Everything!
her mind
screamed.  Her entry to the temple, her sisterhood, her
sword
.  Unable
to answer under the djinni’s passion, she bit her lip and looked away.

After a long moment, the djinni
sighed and gestured at the forest around them.  “Feel the forest, mon Dhi’b? 
It’s fading.  The Inquisitors have taken every moon-kissed, fey, and otherkin
for miles.  I might find it necessary to take you to the firelands again, in
order to rescue your ungrateful hide, and I will not suffer your shadows a
second time for helping you.”

Kaashifah snorted.  “Or perhaps
you intend to kill me and end your imprisonment here.”

The djinni cocked his head down
at her.  “If that were my goal, I would have done so last night, when I had you
helpless at my feet, begging me for death.”

Kaashifah’s face heated with
shame and she looked away, hating to be reminded of the fact.  She, a Maiden of
the Sword, had begged a man to kill her.  It was unspeakable.

“So,” ‘Aqrab said, watching her
carefully, “with that in mind, let’s cease being unreasonable.  You were
willing to die last night.  Now I’m offering you a truce, instead.  The dragons
can remove the Third Lander, but as the one who cursed you at the oasis, only
I
can return to you your ability to kill.  I’ll give it back, if you will
relinquish
your
damned shadows.  I’ve spent too long swallowing your
poisons, mon Dhi’b.  It is icing over my soul.”  He gave her a mirthless
smile.  “Just as, I would imagine, my deathbed wish has been drying out yours.”

Kaashifah swallowed, hard.  She
glanced down the river, watching the chunks of ice floating downstream, knocked
loose by the weak sunlight from where they had frozen in ponds or along
streambeds overnight.  It was true.  His curse had been wearing on her for
millennia.  She couldn’t even kill a
rabbit
, not even to save herself
from starving.  She had wandered the herds of the savannah for months, praying
to find the maggot-ridden carcass of a lion’s kill upon which to feed, living
until her arms and legs became spindly bones, her ribs like fingers jutting
from her chest, yet unable to die.  So many times, it had happened.  Africa,
Asia, India, the Americas…  A Fury, if she was to die, had to die a
violent
death.  Her blood had to be spilled completely.  Starvation, while utterly
wretched and mind-destroying, could never kill her.

What was worse, each time her
body had dwindled to bones, the djinni, while he himself never needed to eat as
anything more than curiosity or luxury, suddenly claimed he craved red meat and
spent a few days harnessing the power of the Fourth Lands to craft himself vast
meals—much more than he could ever eat—and then, once satisfying this newfound
‘craving,’ idly disappeared to allow her to eat his ‘leavings.’  A couple
times, when ‘Aqrab had exhausted his supply of Fourthlander magics and still
the Third Lander hungered, he had even killed for her. 

Something, she had learned over
the years, a djinni despised almost as much as water.  Even back then, gazing
upon that first mountain of food, Kaashifah knew ‘Aqrab had been taking pity on
her.  The humiliation still wormed holes through her soul.  She, a Fury, had
been forced to eat the leftovers of a
man
in order to survive.  Even
knowing it, however, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to refuse his
offerings.  It had been one of many occasions where her stomach had overpowered
her pride, spurned by the voracious, undeniable appetite of the Third Lander infecting
her blood. 

Dragging her eyes from the chunks
of ice floating upon the river, Kaashifah looked back up at ‘Aqrab, who watched
her all-too-carefully over the massive arms he’d crossed over his smooth ebony chest.

The djinni wanted her.  She had
seen it, blazing in his eyes as he challenged her time and again.  Half of her
worried that this was a ploy to further her corruption, to rip away the last of
her defenses so he could finish his defilement of her.  The other half of her
recognized that this was the first time the djinni had so much as mentioned
returning her sword to her, and she knew that, if she didn’t accept his offer
now, she was probably going to have to wait another three thousand years before
he deigned to make it again.

“I’ve seen your need,” she
finally whispered.  “You can’t tell me you won’t touch me, djinni.  I’ve seen
you desire me.  Even with the threat of shadows, you pollute me at every
opportunity.  If you lift your curse, I may be able to kill, but no amount of
Third Lander tooth or claw can kill a
djinni
, ‘Aqrab.  I am not a fool.”

He flinched, and for a moment, it
looked as if he would simply flicker back to the firelands, his game forfeit. 
Stiffly leaning against a fallen tree, however, he reluctantly agreed, “That
much is true.  When you are not being a qybah, I’ve wanted you very much,
yes.”  He shrugged.  “After all, when one is trapped with no other soul in
sight for decades on end, one gets…desperate.”  His casual shrug was belied by
the way he was scuffing his toe in the gravel, concentrating on anything but
her face.