DarykHunter (28 page)

She gasped. Drakus sat next to her again, his body pressed to hers, his red eyes holding her. “You cannot escape this. The will of Draconus will be done.”

Despite her fear, she found a reservoir of courage. Dane wouldn’t want her to give up. Her eyes threatened to tear up again as she thought of Dane. “I won’t breed with you.”

Coldness came into his eyes. “Then before two nights are done, you shall be a dragon sacrifice.”

Chapter Eighteen

Just before dawn, Dane reached the beach where Finius’ ship should have docked, but there was no sign of it. Not that he would have expected the ship to be here, unless something had happened to stall them leaving.

He closed his eyes and tried to feel Ketera. The dream repeated in his head, the details that showed him a camp. Though he had no proof his dream was true, he needed to follow it. Using his tracking skills, he looked for signs that Finius and Ketera had been here. It didn’t take long for him to find what he needed. In the sand lay a piece of Ketera’s tunic sleeve. He snatched it, held it up. Then he saw dried blood in the sand, his stomach tumbled. Someone had taken her and perhaps hurt her. Sand all around the area was disturbed. A fight. Before long he saw other signs of struggle and then an area where footsteps led back into the thick foliage. His gut clenched with anger, all his muscles tightening in a desire to beat some rogues into the ground. His breathing came fast as his rage built.

“By the god!” He hissed his words, the taste bitter on his tongue.

He’d allowed her to take this dangerous journey and maybe now she wouldn’t survive. Perhaps even yet she’d been—

“No.”

He couldn’t think this way. She must be alive out there. Captured and perhaps even hurt, but she was alive. He would know if she’d been killed. There would be time enough for violence, but right now he had to focus on the task at hand. Find Ketera fast.

Eager to find his woman, he started running in the direction the footprints took him. Then he realized he couldn’t continue at that pace. The day had already turned hot, and he could not afford for the rogues to hear him coming. Despite his burning need to rescue Ketera, he knew whatever he did would take stealth. Incredible odds stacked against him. He had to remember that if this rogue camp was truly there, it was one against many. He’d need to outthink other Daryk Ones. How many he couldn’t say for certain.

As he tracked through the jungle, he didn’t take long to stop as the day poured onward. He’d trekked the jungle, following a path through the area that showed him that several people had passed through, for what seemed hours. His body protested such rigorous action. Though he’d hoped to feel back to complete form, a body that had been as severely injured as his demanded some time to finish healing, and he’d punished himself. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered more in his life now but getting to his woman.

“Fuck me,” he said under his breath.

He never thought in a lifetime he’d ever think that way about a woman, but there it was, undeniable and fierce.

He found a copse of low-lying trees under the canopy that afforded him a good view on all sides. After taking time for water and a hardtack that tasted like absolutely nothing, he returned his canteen and food to his pack. That’s when he noticed the clouds gathering overhead. Daylight shrank as the clouds stole what little light managed to make it through the canopy above. He had to move fast or he’d be forced to make camp. He made progress through the jungle, dodging thickening vegetation and at least one dragon. He’d journeyed through this jungle so many times he thought he should know it intimately, but the jungle played a fickle game by morphing each day. Precipitation grew taller creepers, thick vines and trees that towered so he couldn’t see the top. None of it would stop him from finding Ketera, yet he foraged through the growing darkness with urgency. Rain started to cascade in sheets, but he pushed onward. His aching body protested, but he pushed harder.

Hurry.

Hurry.

Ketera needs you.

* * * * *

Ketera paced the tent floor. She couldn’t relax. Not when her whole world balanced on a thread. The tiniest misstep and she’d be dead.

Oh, what does it matter? Soon you’ll be a dragon’s meal.

She couldn’t even summon fear when she contemplated what could happen to her in the next couple of days. She tried to recall if she’d ever encountered a dread and despair like the one she faced. Only when she’d been on the ship, seen the wave coming and knew that she’d never make it back to Magonia to save her father. Then she’d awakened in Dane’s arms and understood that she had another chance to live. Another chance to save her father. Until this mess happened. Despair came as much from feeling as if she’d failed her father in every way possible. She’d tried to get to him and her efforts had crumbled. How could she live with that truth? Perhaps she hadn’t tried hard enough.

Pain seized her at the thought. She picked up a water goblet to slake her thirst. She drank greedily. Her throat hurt as emotions bubbled and threatened to explode. Exhaustion reached for her. She lay across the bed and closed her eyes and tried not to think about what might lie ahead for her. No matter which direction she took in her mind, it all led to a bad ending. Then her father’s voice came to her in her thoughts.

Ketera, you’re a strong woman just like your mother was. No matter what happens in your life there is always a way out. Use your instincts. Feel and you will understand the best way to proceed. Don’t allow disappointment or other people to derail your dreams. Reach for what you want. Live the life you’ve wanted no matter what happens. Survive, Ketera. No matter what, you have to survive to get the truth out. The people of Magonia have to know the truth.

Then it came to her.

Father had said these words to her when he’d sent her a message by courier before she’d sailed on the ship. He’d known that he wouldn’t make it out of prison. Tears filled her eyes. She drew in a shaky breath and buried her face in her hands. Sobs racked her as grief tore her to pieces.

Her father would die, if he wasn’t dead already. Dane had already—

Her sobs came harder now, her body shaking as she allowed the feelings to pour forth. Being strong had been her goal, but she couldn’t hold back. Before long she’d discover her fate.

Survive, Ketera. No matter what, you have to survive to get the truth out. The people of Magonia have to know the truth.

Right now she didn’t care if Magonia never learned the truth.

Footsteps at the tent entrance caused her to bolt into a sitting position. A woman entered the tent holding a platter of food. With long, straight, dark hair, creamy-white skin and a gentle expression in her blue eyes, the small woman had an ethereal air. Wearing a tunic and pants that looked far too large for her, the woman moved toward Ketera with a smile. Ketera instantly recognized the serving girl from Minilos’ tavern.

“Samhala?” Ketera asked in surprise.

Samhala placed the platter on a stand near the bed. “You must eat and keep up your strength.”

“I’m not hungry.” Because she didn’t trust anyone in the camp, Ketera sat up and swung her feet off the bed.

The woman sat on the bed next to her. “You must eat.”

Ketera swallowed hard around the lump in her throat and tried to shove aside overwhelming emotion to no avail. “Were you taken prisoner during the raid on the castle?”

Samhala didn’t answer the question. “Eating will give you strength for whatever comes next.”

Perplexed and frustrated, Ketera bit out her next words. “Why should I? My father will die because I can’t rescue him, and the man I love is dead. What more is there to live for?”

Even as the words came out of her mouth, she didn’t believe them. Didn’t believe that her father could die or that Dane was already dead. A tiny part of her couldn’t stand it, couldn’t process it in any way shape or form, and the grief was so excruciating she didn’t know if it would ever extinguish.

When Ketera looked up, the other woman’s eyes had gone from welcoming to sad. Very sad.

“I’m so very sorry to hear it. I—” Another emotion flickered over her face. “I wish I could take it all back.”

Confused, Ketera peered at her. “Take what back?”

“I’m the reason your lover is dead.”

Ketera’s confusion increased. “How?”

Samhala left the bed and walked slowly around the room. She rubbed the small of her back, as if it might hurt. “I betrayed everything that I am a short time back, and yet I would do it all again.” Samhala turned her gaze back to Ketera. “I overheard Minilos talking to Finius about your plan to return to Magonia. I told Drakus. I’ve been spying for him for a long time. I worked in Minilos’ tavern up until the siege.”

Hatred would be too strong a word for what Ketera felt, but not far off. She stood and took two steps toward the smaller, thinner woman. “You were a spy?”

“Yes. I justified it for a long time.” Samhala’s eyes had gone vacant, and unless it was Ketera’s imagination, the woman seemed as steeped in grief as she was. “You see, my Daryk One was taken prisoner by Drakus six months ago when Drakus tried to convince him to spy at the castle.”

Ketera listened, her heart sympathetic to the woman’s turmoil. “Kidnapped. Where is he now?”

“Held at another camp. My love tried to get away and they… They injured his legs so he couldn’t move. Whenever he tries to escape, they break his legs. When he recovers, they break them again.”

“Oh god Magon.”

Samhala’s gaze snapped to hers. “You are Magonian?”

What was the point in hiding it? “Yes.”

She nodded. “I have nothing against Magonians. And as you know, neither does Drakus.”

Ketera snorted. “Of course he does. He wants to steal Magonian women and rape them.”

Samhala shook her head. “Yes, but if Drakus were the ruler of all Dragonia, Magonians would be welcome to immigrate here, and Dragonians could immigrate to Magonia. How is that a bad thing?”

Ketera’s moved toward the woman, her irritation rising. “Regardless of his desire to bring the two sides together, he is going about it the wrong way. And he kidnapped your mate and forced you to spy.” She blinked. “Wait. Did you spy willingly? Before your mate was kidnapped?”

Samhala shook her head. “No. They contacted me after they kidnapped my mate. They told me what they’d do to him if I didn’t spy for them. I had no choice.”

“Break his legs?”

“They might do other things to him, kill him with poison from Magonia or perhaps cut his head off.”

Ketera winced. “I knew about the poison. I never…I guess I didn’t think about how a Daryk One could be killed. Not once I knew how they healed.”

Samhala nodded. “I’ve done a lot of things in the last six months for my mate. Things I wish I could take back. Because I don’t think they’re going to let him go. Ever. They’re using him, keeping me on a string. The thread grows thinner ever day.”

Ketera could see the pain in the other woman’s eyes, felt it right to the core, mixing with her own agony. “Why are you telling me this?”

Samhala turned sad eyes her way. Tears shimmered on Samhala’s lashes. “So if I have to betray you again, you’ll understand.”

That stopped Ketera from speaking for quite a few moments. Finally she found her voice. “You haven’t tried to escape?”

“I wouldn’t. Not without my Daryk One.”

Ketera understood that love, and with all her heart wished Dane were there. She’d tell him how much she loved him. “What’s his name?”

“Yavna.”

“A very strong name.”

“Very.” Samhala turned and headed to the tent flap. “If you want to stay alive, you’ll have to do whatever Drakus wants, you know.”

Ketera opened her mouth to deny it, but Samhala left without waiting for a response. Ketera wondered why she didn’t hate the woman for her betrayal to Grimnald Castle and for helping this terrible situation to form in the first place. No matter what she did, she couldn’t summon the fierce dislike. Instead she felt nothing at all. Fatigue settled in and soon after she drifted into a fitful sleep filled with nightmares. Odd creatures she’d never seen before floated through her dreams, their cries calling to her, screaming, fleeing toward her from the wild tangle of foliage. She couldn’t move, paralyzed by her overwhelming fear and grief. The dreams tangled together in a noxious soup until she didn’t know either a beginning or an end.

Ketera awakened some time later and heard rain drumming on the tent. How long had she been asleep? She couldn’t say, but she could tell it had turned to evening and darkness settled on the land. A cool breeze fluttered the tent flap and the welcome wind brushed over her flushed skin. She wanted to bathe, but no one had offered her the opportunity. Perhaps they wouldn’t. The day had stretched on, and she hadn’t seen another soul. She heard people outside, the calls of men at work and wondered if they would pull up stakes and move the camp.

Not long afterward, she heard the tent flaps move again. She ignored them. A shadow fell over her and she sat bolt upright with a gasp.

Samhala stood above her, a knife in her hand.

* * * * *

Dane didn’t know which frightened him more. The fact his legs were shaky after running for what seemed hours through the jungle, or the fact the camp was heavily guarded. He sank down next to a cluster of trees that afforded him coverage. No one could see him on this slight incline, but he could survey the entire area from this point. The clearing was circled here and there by rogue Daryk Ones. The camp had been carved out of one of the few places in this jungle that could be used for such a thing. Dozens of tents, most of them big enough to accommodate five Daryk Ones, lined up along a nearby river. One large tent, the largest he’d seen, dominated the south side.

Drakus’ tent no doubt. Bastard would expect such commodious provisions for himself while the rest of his men lived in far less.

Dragon dung. How the hells was he going to penetrate this perimeter? Even the night couldn’t cloak a man walking into such a well-protected camp. He sighed and contemplated an idea that had turned around in his head for the entire night. Without a planned attack with several dozen men to take the camp, Dane couldn’t expect to get far. Certainly he could attack and take out a few men on his own. Perhaps more than a few. In the end, he’d still be captured and if the mood struck the rogues he fought against, they might decide to execute him on the spot. That would leave his mate defenseless.