Heart of Fire (15 page)

“Where did you get your
magic?”

“First asked, first
answered.”

“Are you always so bold?” He shook
his head. “No one has ever asked me such questions. At least not
and lived.”

She shivered.

“I would never hurt you.” He sat up,
keeping the blanket about his waist. He poked a stick into the
fire. “It’s a long story.”

She rolled all the way over onto her
stomach and crossed her arms into a pillow, turning her head so she
could see him. “So tell me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze seemed caught on something
in the flames. “As you know, I’m a dark elf, an outcast. I know the
names I’m called. Dark elves are rare, because by tradition,
they’re not allowed to live beyond birth. When my mother knew she
carried me, she fled the city of...” he paused.

“She fled the isle of Elysium, the
elven homeland. A band of Travelers gave her shelter. When I was
born, they tolerated us but every bad thing that happened was my
fault. They wanted to use me in their carnival but my mother
wouldn’t let them. Eventually, they turned us out.”

The reflection of the flames in his
dark eyes mimicked the storm raging across his face. A vein pulsed
in his neck. “Before she left, she begged their
tashathna...”

“The what?”

“Tashathna is an elven word for
something like an elder wizard and chieftain. Anyway, her magic was
long gone so she begged him for a charm of protection. She knew
there were those who wouldn’t hesitate to rid the realm of
me.”

His eyes grew liquid. “He tattooed
the spells onto my flesh with molten silver.”

“Oh my. I cannot imagine the pain of
that.” Jessalyne winced.

“I was three. I have little memory
of it. My mother always told me I took it bravely.”

“Do you truly not miss
her?”

He shrugged. “Without her magic, she
couldn’t protect me. And I know she missed her home and her family.
She conscripted me into the Legion for my own safety. I choose not
to miss her because there’s no point. She lives in a place I’m
forbidden to go. I’ll never see her again.”

“I miss my mother every day.”
Jessalyne sat up, pulling her knees up under her chin. “Do you
remember your mother well? What she looked like? What she sounded
like? I have the hardest time keeping those memories
sharp.”

“My mother is a high born light elf.
As beautiful as anything you’ve ever seen. Her hair is the color of
the egret’s feather, as pure white as you can imagine. I remember
her as having a constant glow about her, like she was bathed in
moonlight. Except for the color of your eyes, you favor her
considerably.” A bitter smile grooved his mouth.

Jessalyne bowed her head, hiding the
heat in her cheeks. She picked at the blanket. “What’s her
name?”

“Her name is Elana-naya. But before
I was born she was known as Shaylana.”

“Shaylana is so beautiful. Why did
she change it?”

“She didn’t. It was punishment for
her indiscretion. Elana-naya means ‘daughter of none’ just as my
surname, Elta-naya, means ‘son of none’.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Fair has nothing to do with the
rule of the Tashathna, the Elders.”

“What about your father? Did the
Elders punish him?”

“My father is human. That’s why I am
who I am. Only a human male and an elf female can produce a dark
elf.”

“Maybe he didn’t know about
you?”

“He knew enough to destroy her
life.”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know. My mother refused to
tell me. I only know he deserves...” He ground his fist into the
sand.

“Why didn’t your mother just take
you to Elysium with her? You’re half elf.”

He laughed, a sharp, harsh bark.
“The Elders would never allow that. My human half offends
them.”

Jessalyne pulled the blanket a
little tighter. “Why?”

“Elysium is the heart of elven
magic. On the isle, the elves’ magic is strong and pure. On mortal
soil, their magic weakens and distorts until it ceases altogether.
I don’t have that problem. Nothing I’ve encountered yet has
hindered my magic. They fear me because they have no hold on
me.”

“You still haven’t told me about
your gifts.”

He changed the subject. “How old
were you when your mother died?”

“Not quite seven. My father left the
day he put her in the ground. After that, I saw him once every few
years. Mostly, he just left sacks of coins on my
doorstep.”

Ertemis grunted. “He shouldn’t have
left you, a female child alone in such an isolated spot. You did
well raising yourself.”

She looked up at him. “So did
you.”

“The Legion raised me.”

“That’s where you met
Valduuk.”

“Aye. He saved my life. My skin made
me the favorite target of some of the older conscripts. He
overheard them plotting to rid the camp of me once and for all. He
changed their minds with a broken jaw, a few cracked ribs, and a
dislocated shoulder. They never bothered me again.”

“What was your job in the
legions?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I was a
messenger of sorts.”

She swallowed. “Have you killed many
men?”

“Do you really want an answer to
that?”

She nodded.

“I’ve killed…my share.”

“Is that why Valduuk called you the
Black Death?”

He groaned at the name. “Aye. I
earned that name because of my ability to come and go
unseen.”

“So, what other abilities do you
possess?”

He laughed.

Indignation tensed her jaw. “Why are
you laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m just
not used to the way you treat me.” He shook his head. “You speak to
me without fear. You look at me without shrinking back. I’m not
used to that. Don’t I frighten you?”

She smiled. “You look a little
frightening but you haven’t really given me a reason to fear you.
Now, answer the question.”

“Such temerity in one so young. What
abilities do you possess?”

“Fire.”

“I’m aware of that one.”

“I can heal.”

“I don’t think knowledge of herbs
counts.”

She shook her head. “More than just
with herbs. Lord Tyber’s son Orit fell and shattered the bone in
his rear flank. I healed him with my magic.”

“I haven’t seen you
practice.”

“Practice my magic?”

“If I didn’t practice with my sword,
I might lose my skills. At the very least, I wouldn’t get any
better. If you don’t practice, how will you learn the scope of your
power?”

“The thought never occurred to me.
Where would I begin?”

“You have fire. Start there. Call
fire into your hand,” he suggested.

“A flame? It would burn
me!”

“Nay, I don’t think it
will.”

She held her palm out and closed her
eyes. She imagined a cool flame.

“Well done!” Ertemis
said.

She opened her eyes to see a weak
blue flame flickering in her hand. She gasped and the flame went
out. “Well, that didn’t work.”

“You doubted yourself. Try again,
with your eyes open.”

She held her palm out and the flame
reappeared. She willed it larger and it grew. “Did you see that? I
just did that. I imagined it bigger and then it was.” She closed
her hand and the flame disappeared. “I cannot believe I never
thought of practicing. I’ve wasted so many years.”

“You may be the king’s magewoman
yet. I’ve never met a human with a quarter of your abilities.” He
lay down and pulled the blanket up to his chest. “Best get some
sleep.”

“Very well. Good dreams.” She
settled under the covers. Firelight flickered on the rock
ceiling.

“Good dreams.”

“Ertemis?”

“Aye.”

“Who is Lelaya?”

“It’s not a name, it’s an elven
word. Now go to sleep.”

His half answer was puzzling but
sleep called. “I’m glad nothing happened with Dalayna.” She
yawned.

She dreamed of her mother. They
walked hand in hand through the forests of Fairleigh Grove, as they
had when Jessalyne was a little girl. The woods grew dark and she
was alone. Her mother’s voice called to her.
“Jessa...Jessa...”

She ran through a thicket of brush
toward the voice. When she cleared the thicket, her mother lay
still and pale in the coils of a white, two-headed serpent. The
beast laughed with one mouth and frowned with the other.

A huge falcon swept down and caught
the serpent in its claws, tearing the scaled flesh into red shreds.
Jessalyne raised her hands to strike the serpent with magic and it
laughed at her from both mouths. Try as she could, no fire came.
She dropped her hands to her sides, powerless to help.

In a flash of white, the serpent
struck the falcon and it fell to the ground, its breast bright with
blood.

Jessalyne bolted awake, gulping air.
“It was just a dream,” she whispered. The cave was completely dark.
The coals of the fire had ashed over and shed no light. She
shivered and held out her palm, calling up the small blue flame.
The little light it gave off cast odd shadows on the uneven
walls.

The shadows flickered and she
jumped. She couldn’t hold the flame all night but if she restarted
the fire, she would wake Ertemis. She stretched her little light
toward him. He slept soundly, his back to the fire. She touched the
pendant at her throat.

With the flame to light her way, she
pulled the blanket around her shoulders and tiptoed to his side.
The sand muffled her movements. She sat on his canvas, turning so
they were back to back. Please don’t wake up. She balled her fist
to extinguish the light and shimmied down a little before curling
up next to him. Slumber washed over her and she drifted, vaguely
aware of him shifting.

* * *

Ertemis turned and tucked his arm
around her waist, drawing her close. She roused at his touch so he
held still, hoping she’d think he moved in his sleep. He breathed
her in, enjoying her nearness.

“What kindness brings you to my bed,
Jess?” His lips brushed her ear as he spoke and she
shivered.

“I had a nightscare and it’s dark
and you were sleeping,” she mumbled.

He pulled her a little closer.
“Shhh...go to back to sleep. You’re safe now, lelaya.”

Chapter Seven

Firstlight flushed pink the thin
slice of sky visible through the cavern’s entrance. Ertemis
squinted. Jessalyne slept curled around him, entwined in the
blankets. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breath heating his
skin. There were worse things than being her pillow. Her hair
trailed across his chest like a ribbons of captured
moonlight.

He smoothed a strand with his
fingers, reluctant to wake her. He could hear Dragon snuffling,
waiting to be fed. He could wait a few more moments.

“Mmmm...” Jessalyne murmured and
slipped her arm around his neck. Was she dreaming of
him?

The feel of her tucked against him
was pleasurable beyond words. He listened to her heart beating.
Impetuously, he felt the urge to imprint its rhythm. At least when
they parted, he’d have that piece of her.

He opened his senses and let the
steady thump pulse into him until it ran through his blood as his
own. The only other heart he’d ever imprinted was his
mother’s.

Jessalyne nuzzled her head against
his shoulder and he reached for her, pulling her on top of him.
“Good morning, sweeting. Sleep better on this side of the
fire?”

Jessalyne’s eyes opened sleepily.
She yawned and blinked a few times. Suddenly, her eyes widened and
she stiffened. “Are you still naked?”

He motioned toward the makeshift
clothes rack where his clothes hung. “I haven’t left this bed since
you joined me.”

She rolled off him, inadvertently
taking all the blankets with her, yelping when she hit the
ground.

In the few seconds she’d been gone,
he already craved her warmth again. “If you wanted a good look, you
only need ask.”

She scrunched her eyes shut. “Put
your clothes on!”

“Nay, not yet.” He scooped her up,
blankets and all, and cradled her in his lap. “You shared my bed
and kept your innocence, didn’t you?”

She nodded, eyeing him
warily.

“But I’m a mercenary, not a knight.”
He embraced her, one arm beneath her back. “I promised I would have
another kiss.”

* * *

His lips were gentle, restrained,
teasing her mouth. She yielded, wanting more. His kiss turned
ravenous.

Jessalyne lost herself in the crush
of his mouth. A new heat forged in her and she reached for him,
twining her fingers into his silky black locks. The desire to obey
her mother’s letter warred with her hunger to be held and touched.
It’s just a kiss. Just the most delicious kiss from the most
delicious man.