Dolor and Shadow (22 page)

CHAPTER 29

Kallan’s bare feet slapped the stone. Behind her, the corridor burned. The paralyzing panic that had clouded her head with senseless worry changed to adrenaline. Finding the Dark One so soon assured her that she wasn’t too late.

The wall of Seidr flame guaranteed her more than enough time to get to Rune and meet up with Aaric in the stables.

The halls twisted as Kallan sprinted, panting as her pounding chest aligned with the rhythmic patter of her feet. After descending further into the darkness, she made a sharp corner and stopped in front of the oak cell door.

Kallan stared.

The hall was quiet here. So quiet she found it too easy to let her thoughts drift.

She thought of his smugness, his arrogance, his regal confidence on the other side of the door.

Kill him,
she thought.
He must die. He should die. But then what? The Dark One unleashes his rage on the city and countless more die in the process. Aaric was right. To kill this king would be to invite the Dark One’s wrath.

So she couldn’t kill him. Not yet. She remembered his calloused hands as he grabbed her, challenged her, and pushed her. She had found the change refreshing and she recalled the sweet scent on his neck.

Kallan shook her head, forcing the thoughts from her mind.

She couldn’t take the Dark One and the king together, but now she tasted the bitter truth of that lie. Truth was, she couldn’t take on the Dark One at all. He exceeded her skills and she knew it.

Kallan placed her palm on the handle.

If I kill this king, the Dark One will come. He will wage his war on my city and none can stop him. None can control him…except his king.

Kallan released the door’s handle.

No, I can’t kill him. But he can’t stay here either. The Dark One will find him. And if they unite…if they unite.

* * *

With a resounding blast, the oaken door burst into splinters. Stretched out on the stone floor amid the coals and glowing remnants of the door, wearing nothing but his trousers and signet ring, the King of Gunir rested comfortably, too comfortably. With his hands tucked lazily behind his head and his feet crossed at the ankles, he angled his neck to better see his guest.

Kallan’s chest heaved as she sent off bits of Seidr-light into the room and descended the steps where she stopped short. A grin stretched Rune’s face as he looked her over.

From the dainty bare toes peeking out from beneath her gown, he followed the folds of thin, white fabric. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and fell unceremoniously to her waist where she sported a dagger and her Seidkona’s pouch. The frown she gave him was all he needed to discern her mood. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but grin all the more at her disheveled state or goad the playful dragon he saw within.

“This is hardly the place for a bit of philandering,” Rune said, “but I’m willing to give it a go.”

He watched with delight as fire burned in her eyes. Her hand twitched and he could only assume she meant to scorch him.

As predictable a lass as any.
Rune shook his head, letting his laughter roll over her. “You’re too easy to rile up, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said and Rune caught the additional flare of annoyance in her tone.

Predictable.

Marching across the cell, she leaned down, unaware of the view she granted him as she snatched his wrist from behind his head and yanked him up. “Come on,” she said.

Rune let her pull him to his feet. “Alright, alright,” he said lazily.

She was in a hurry to wherever it was she was taking him, so he decided to do the most sensible thing. He took his time.

He stretched his arms to the ceiling. “Give me a minute. I need to wallow,” he said, not bothering to quell the half grin he formed as her eyes wandered over his chest. She blushed when she realized what she had done and, unnaturally, forced her eyes to his face.

Obtusely, he looked her over again until she crunched up her nose in disgust and he was pleased with himself. Again, her hand twitched as if to slap him.

That’s right, princess. Slap me. Let’s see just where your breaking point is.

“Wallow later,” she said and spun on her heel back to the steps. Rune didn’t move.

“Well?” she asked.

“Aren’t you going to shackle me, chain me?” His eyes flashed with amusement. “Tie me up?” Rune eyed the sway in Kallan’s step as she climbed the stairs back to the door. “Aren’t you worried I’ll stab you in the back?” he said.

Kallan assessed the corridor. “You can try,” she said.

Somewhat put off by her lack of participation in his game, Rune leisurely followed her up the steps where he could appreciate the generous view of her backside.

“I assume then that my transfer was not approved,” he said.

Kallan peered over her shoulder as if loaded to fire a series of assaults then blinked blankly at his chest only a few inches from her face. Rune watched as anger gave way to panic, to a familiar red glow on her neck, then sheer confusion. It was all he could do not to laugh.

A moment later, after she seemed to settle on anger, Kallan grabbed Rune’s wrist and pulled him into the hall.

“Come on,” she said. “And try to keep up.”

It was her turn to stab at his patience with her belittling tone as he bounded into the corridor after her.

* * *

Through a series of passages, twists, and turns, Kallan led Rune down a hall where the stones of Lorlenalin and light ended and earthen tunnels and darkness began. With the Dark One and the blazing corridor blocking her favored route, she had no choice but to steer Rune into the mines.

With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a palm of flame to light her path. The passage was twice as long, but guaranteed no complications, and the last thing she needed was a complication.

Intercept Rune. Get to the stables. And then what? s
he thought.

“Now what, princess?”

Her temper flared and she whirled on him. Only then did she wish she hadn’t. The light from her Seidr-flame cast a silent dance of shadow and light that complimented the tunnel, his features, and frame. An uncomfortable heat warmed her neck and, afraid he would notice, she turned and carefully made her way over the raw earth.

“What is your plan for handling the guards?” Rune asked.

“The guards are dead.”
Why am I telling him this? He shouldn’t know this.

“Why are the guards dead?” His tone was dark with a worry that satisfied her.

She couldn’t tell him about the Dark One. He may be complacent now, but that may change once he realized his army is near.

“Is that why you didn’t shackle me?”

There was a sense to danger, a smell to it, a certain feel that starts in the chest and spreads like a poison released in the blood. For years, she trained to detect it. It bothered her more that she had been strangely absent around Rune. If anything, she felt calm around him. She would kill him before admitting that.

“Yes,” she lied. In fact, she had been so set on getting to him before the Dark One that she had forgotten the shackles.

And why is that, Kallan?

She breathed with relief as the tunnel’s end appeared ahead and joined with the stone passage that would take her up to the barracks. It pleased her to see this passage was also empty.

“This isn’t the way they led me last time,” Rune said as she stepped her bare foot on cold, smooth stone.

Is that pleasure I hear? Is he actually enjoying this?

She bit her lip to hold back a retort.

“Are we lost?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

She debated turning on him and firing her Seidr until all that remained was a shriveled corpse of a man. So why didn’t she?

The Dark One. Right. He would evoke wrath. Unleash his fury, and why can’t I think today?

“I think we’re lost,” Rune said.

That was it. Stepping into Rune, Kallan ignited her Seidr, and slammed him into the stone wall as she raised her Seidr-flame to fire.

“Too long I’ve hunted you,” she said. “Too long I’ve dreamt of pouring my Seidr-flame onto you until all that is left are the charred pieces of your blackened remains.” She shoved her weight into him, knowing the stone scraped his back. He didn’t wince, but a twinge of guilt pierced her chest. “Do not forget this, Ljosalfr. Nothing is keeping you alive right now except my good humor.”

The words were there, but she couldn’t stop staring at his mouth and wondering how it tasted. With much asserted effort, she forced her attention to his eyes where she saw the lone hunter who admired the harmless peasant alone in the wood and, at once, she doubted that such a man could be responsible for all the terror beset on her kin.

“You won’t,” he said.

Kallan blinked, unsure what to do with his declaration.

“How do you know I won’t?” she asked. She could break him. Too easily, she could break him.
Isn’t that what you want? To break him?
But something was holding her back, as if a part of her was protecting him from herself.

“Because I’ve already pushed you,” he said. Kallan eased off his chest. “If you were going to hit me with that…” He nodded to her hand filled with Seidr. “…you already would have.”

There was no doubt, no worry, no hesitation in his voice. Only trust. Pure and simple, and she felt the last of her rage ebb.

“Deny it,” he said as if egging her on, taunting her to fire the Seidr-flame at him and the anger he provoked flooded back.

In response, she extinguished her Seidr and dropped her arm from his chest.

“I should kill you,” she said, shoving a finger into his chest.

“But you won’t.”

And she wouldn’t. But she hated that he knew that. She hated more that he was right.

Without an answer, Kallan continued through the dark. Her fire would have ended and the Dark One would have continued to Rune’s cell. If he knew where he was going, she had another ten minutes before the Dark One discovered Rune was gone. By the time the Dark One returned to the barracks, she would be at the front and Rune would be…she wasn’t sure yet.

Kallan dragged Rune on through the labyrinth. At every blind corner, she verified the way was clear before picking up pace again. Taking the steps three at a time, Kallan led Rune to the barracks where she threw open the door with a bang. Empty tables and upturned chairs littered the room where she had found them earlier. The guard’s corpse still sagged against the wall.

Shoving aside a chair, Kallan made her way to the armory. She felt Rune watching her and glanced over her shoulder in time to see him shift his eyes up to meet hers and he grinned. She blushed and decided instead to inspect the fuller of an iron blade too chipped and cracked to withstand another battle. The elding dagger next to it was in far better condition to take into battle, but too small to be of any use aside from a rabbit skinning. She wrapped her hand around the hilt of the sword.

“I would expect more from the legendary Dokkalfar armory,” Rune said as she raised the blade then thrust to test its balance.

“The armory has been stripped,” she said.

“Odd habit, don’t you think?”

There was that jovial tone again that urged her to kill him. She hated herself more for not doing so. His lack of danger was disheartening. He had no sense of trouble, or hid it well. Perhaps he didn’t care. His only consistent purpose seemed to be finding new ways to push her. She decided he did want to die and, the moment she had nothing better to do, she’d be sure to oblige.

“My guards have reported to the front gate to hold back the attack your precious berserker has led on Lorlenalin.”

Her words wiped the jocularity from his face.

“Bergen is here?” he asked.

Kallan ignored the question and studied the sword’s fuller, judging its quality before lowering the blade to her side. “They’re here for you.”

“Where is he? Take me to him!” Rune slammed his hands onto the table between them. “I can order him to stand down! Bergen will listen to me!”

Oh, something can bother the pompous King of Gunir.

Kallan scoffed as she scanned the armory for a suitable weapon.

“And stand by while my executioner removes your head tomorrow night?” she said, keeping her eyes on the wall that had been stripped of all axes and most of the swords. Only a handful of daggers remained aside from the mediocre sword in her hand.

Rune straightened his back.

“Do you desire my death so much?” he asked.

He seriously sounds hurt.
“My people will have your head whether I give it or not.”

“Then we’ll negotiate a bargain,” he said.

Kallan dropped the sword on the table.

“The King of Gunir for the lives of my people,” he said.

Kallan mulled over his proposition.

“Am I to believe you and your…Bergen will quietly leave once you are united?” she mocked.

“You have my word.”

“Your word,” she repeated and the anger came flooding back. “I’ve seen how good your
word
is.”

Rune dropped his eyes to the table between them and took up the single dagger resting there.

He turned the weapon over, examining the twelve-inch blade. Kallan watched him run his fingers along the silver-black sheen of the elding and the series of runes inscribed in the ricasso. Spinning the dagger, Rune read the inscription aloud.

“
Blakkr Ond
.”

“Black Breath,” Kallan translated as Rune admired the artisanship.

“Your weapons are heavier than ours,” he said.

A compliment?

“If you can’t handle it, perhaps you would find the inadequate blades of Gunir more to your liking,” Kallan said.

Rune peered up from the blade.

Kallan supplied a fake grin.
And there’s his soft spot.
“Or, perhaps, the smaller blades on the wall behind you will better suit you.” The hint of humor vanished from Rune’s eye.

Silence stretched between them until she extended her hand for the blade and Rune tightened his grip on the hilt. The blade was harmless, but the point was clear. This was a standoff.

“I will take it by force,” Kallan warned.

She summoned her Seidr flame and readied her hand. Rune shifted his gaze from the blade in his hand to the Seidr in hers.

“Where did you find a smith who can forge elding?” he asked. She didn’t answer.

Rune placed the weapon on the table and Kallan extinguished her flame in response, scowling as she glided past him to the barracks door. None of these weapons would hold up in battle. They were wasting their time.

“Move it,” she said with a nod that indicated the door and he obliged. Cautiously, Kallan poked her head into the corridor. Once she was certain the way was clear, she signaled to Rune to follow and dashed into the hall just as she heard him mutter beneath his breath, “This will be interesting.”