Willing Sacrifice (22 page)

Torr stood over her, naked, sword in hand, scanning the area as if expecting trouble.

“You don’t think we’re alone?”

Bloody water dripped down his body. “I’ve had enough surprises for one day.”

She turned over and crawled to where she’d dropped her medical bag. “Sit down. Some of those cuts are bad enough you’re going to need me to sew them up.”

“They’ll heal,” he said, not even sparing her a glance.

“If you don’t want to do it here, we can go back into the woods where we’re out of sight, but you’re bleeding pretty bad.”

“I’ve bled worse. I’ll live.”

Okay. Clearly he had no intention of letting her do her job.

She gathered her things, positioned them over her wet clothes and picked up the rock from where he’d tossed it.

She was sure she was supposed to feel something, but all she felt was gravity. “I’m not sure this is the right kind of rock.”

“It is. I felt its pull a second ago.”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“Maybe because you have no innate magic.”

“Oh.” Of course she didn’t. The only thing she was good at was healing, and he wouldn’t even let her do that. Despite what he thought, some of those gashes were nasty, and who knew what kind of bacteria lived in that water?

She examined his naked body from where she stood, wishing he’d let her do something to help ease his pain.

A sharp sting sliced across her arm. She gasped a little before she could control her surprised reaction.

She looked down and saw that she’d been cut, or maybe had reopened one of the cuts from yesterday.

“Stop it,” he nearly shouted.

She jumped at the force of his words and took several involuntary steps back. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

He swallowed a curse, and by the look of his face, it had been a big one. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. Let’s get out of here and figure out our next move.”

Water dripped into her eyes as she followed him. The view of his naked backside was a nice distraction from the general ache of her body and the sting of the cuts she’d gathered helping to free him.

By the time he stopped, she was more than ready. She pulled some bandages and salve from her bag and went to him. “Let me do this.”

“You first.”

He took the supplies from her and wrapped her cuts with a gentle touch. By the time he was done, she’d forgotten why she was supposed to be mad at him. All she could think about was how glad she was that he was alive and breathing.

“Thanks,” he said, “for saving me back there. I thought for sure that was the end of the line.”

She didn’t even like to think about what could have happened. “You’re welcome.”

He lifted her chin so she was looking into his eyes. So pretty was the clear amber that she almost missed what he said. “You can’t ever do it again.”

“Do what?”

“Risk your life for me. If anything happened to you, it would destroy me.”

“Nothing happened.”

“But it could have. Far too easily.” He stood and started pulling on his clothes.

His cuts had already scabbed over, leaving her little doubt that he would be fine and whole within a few hours. She, on the other hand, would take days to fully heal.

“Time to go?” she asked as she started packing away her things.

“Yes.”

She picked up the stone and handed it to him. “Which way?”

He took it, but didn’t seem to perform any magic that she could tell.

He pointed. “That way.”

“So they did take the stone toward the southern village?”

He didn’t answer her question. All he said was, “Let me know if you need a break. I plan to push hard and be there by nightfall.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep up.” And she would, even if it killed her.

T
orr had no intention of taking her to the Masons’ building site. She was going right back to Brenya and the others, where there was absolutely no risk of her throwing herself into danger to save him. Again.

As grateful as he was to her for saving his life, he was also furious. How could she risk herself? Didn’t she realize she was the center of his world?

Of course she didn’t. And thanks to Brenya, he couldn’t tell her.

Rage and frustration fueled his stride, giving him the feeling he could go on forever without stopping.

An hour into their trek, he felt a sudden shift in the direction the lake stone was pulling. The bag it was in lifted slightly from his hip, indicating that the other stone was to his left. He kept walking, and within a few minutes the stone was tugging his bag backward.

They’d just passed the site.

They were still a few miles from the southern village—too far for him to get there and back before nightfall.

It was stupid to be this close to his enemy and not at least take the opportunity to see what he was up against.

“Will you wait here for a minute?” he asked Grace. “I need a little privacy.”

She slumped to the ground where she stood, her breathing heavy. “Sure.”

He had set a hard pace, and as much as he hated pushing her, it was better than having her out here after dark.

“I won’t be long.”

He slipped into the trees, following the stone’s pull. He didn’t have to go far to find what he was looking for.

Inside a large clearing was what looked much like a Sentinel Stone. Two Masons hammered away at it, chipping tiny bits of rock from intricate runes. Even though he’d stolen a hammer, each of them still wielded one. With each strike of their tools, he could feel little sparks of energy shoot into the atmosphere—the same kind of sparks that fueled his power.

Each of those sparks seemed attracted to him and hit him like a minuscule stinging bite against his skin. He guessed that if he stayed here long, the power inside him would grow dangerously fast.

In addition to the two Masons, he saw a crystalline Warden standing guard over the site. Its clear sword was in its grip, catching fiery rays of sunshine. A cloud of rainbows covered the ground around it, each one cast from the Warden’s prismatic body. It was so still it looked like a statue, but Torr knew better than to let that fool him.

Flanking it were two glittering black Hunters, sitting idle, ready to pounce.

He used some of the power bombarding him to amplify his vision. Glittering filaments crossed the area, indicating the presence of several traps. The entire perimeter was covered. In fact there was one only a few feet in front of him.

The runes carved into the stone appeared to be the same ones that had been Brenya’s portal. They were progressing slowly, chip by chip. Even with both Masons working, he guessed he had at least a day to plan his attack.

With only him to wage the battle, he wasn’t sure it would be enough time.

Torr backed up the way he’d come, being careful to retrace his steps so that he wouldn’t accidentally run into any nasty surprises along the way. When he got back to Grace, she was sitting where he’d left her, hugging her knees with her head resting on them.

She didn’t hear him coming until he was too close, which only served to highlight her human limitations and how vulnerable they made her.

He needed to get her back to the village. Now. And once he did, he was going to force Brenya to keep her safe.

Torr reached down and offered Grace his hand. “We need to keep moving.”

She gave him a weary nod as she took his hand. He pulled her up, the move putting her close enough to him that he could smell her scent.

He was instantly aroused. Every coherent thought he’d had only a moment ago had been knocked out by memories of having her naked in his arms, of being inside her, and wondering how he could get there again.

She stared up at him. Her lips parted, and all he could think about was kissing her, tasting her.

He saw her mouth move, but whatever she said was lost. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of his name that he snapped out of the spell she wove around him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He closed his eyes to block out the sight of her sweet face. “Yes.”

Her fingers settled on his brow, so gentle and warm. How many times had she touched him like this back at Dabyr? How many times had he wished he’d been a whole man, able to love her the way he wanted?

Now that he could, there was no time. She was angry at him for hiding the truth from her, and while he understood that anger, he couldn’t change it.

“We should go,” he said.

“You seem sick. If you need to rest—”

“No. That’s not going to help.” Not even close.

He pulled her into motion and let go of her hand to put some distance between them. He couldn’t touch her and still keep his head where it needed to be. Danger was only a few minutes’ walk away, and if she’d let him, he would have taken her right there on the forest floor.

It was better not to look at her or touch her, better to remember why he was here.

The rest of their trip was an exercise in self-discipline. Centuries of doing the hard things, of being responsible, gave him the mental fortitude he needed to get them where they were going.

As soon as she recognized where their path led, she stopped in her tracks. “You were bringing me here all along, weren’t you?”

He turned to face her, and the look of betrayal on her face nearly brought him to his knees.

“Yes,” he said, unwilling to lie to her. Misleading her had been bad enough. He wouldn’t heap more sins on top of that.

Her voice wavered, but he couldn’t tell if it was sadness or anger that caused it. “And that little pit stop you made? You found the Masons, didn’t you? You found them and didn’t even tell me.”

“Yes. You’ll be safe here while I go back and deal with the threat.”

“I guess saving your life wasn’t enough to prove I’m worthy of your trust, that I’m capable of not only taking care of myself, but also helping you.”

“It’s not like that.”

She got right up in his face, close enough that he could see the wet sheen of pain glittering in her eyes. “I thought you were different from the others, that you didn’t see me as a puny, weak human. I know now that I was wrong.”

Grace turned and left, hurrying off into the village, where she disappeared inside one of the huts.

Brenya’s voice came from behind him. “I see our Grace has kept you on your toes, young Theronai.”

He’d been so absorbed in what Grace had been saying that he hadn’t even realized the other woman was standing there. Now that he did, shock rocked him back on his heels.

She looked tired. Exhausted. Her skin hung on her frame, the smooth, ageless texture replaced with deep lines. Even her eyes, swirling with stormy waves, seemed duller, with a milky sheen of passing time.

He tried to hide his reaction so as not to insult her. “I guess that’s one way to put it. Why the hell didn’t you take her with you when you teleported everyone away?”

“You needed her. I trust the information I gave her was useful?”

“I found the Masons. They’re not too far away, either. If they finish that stone and open a portal, this whole village will be overrun within hours.”

“We can travel to the northern village, but the outcome would be the same. You must destroy the stone.”

“Give me the crystals and tell me how to use them.”

“Using them is simple. Surviving their use will take more skill.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There will be magical backlash when the crystals are activated.”

“What kind of backlash?”

“The deadly kind. If you can see the crystals’ blue fire, you are already too late. It will destroy all in its reach.”

“You’re telling me those crystals put off magical radiation?”

She frowned a second before nodding. “Yes.”

“Okay. So what kind of skill is needed to avoid this unpleasantness?”

“Speed. Timing. You must be away from the area before the explosion occurs.”

“I don’t suppose you have some kind of long fuse, do you?”

“No. Any lengthy delays would give the Warden time to react. This would be a bad thing.”

He instantly started thinking about the Masons’ building site and the distance between the stone and the Warden. There were only a few yards—a distance the Warden could cross in a matter of seconds. That was assuming the Warden stayed at its current guard post. “I’m going to need a distraction.”

A frown pulled at Brenya’s wrinkles. “Indeed. I will provide this. Give me the night to do so.”

“What do you have in mind?”

She ignored his question. “Get yourself food and rest. You will need it for what is to come.”

•   •   •

Grace was neck-deep in a hot bath when Brenya walked in. She was stooped over, moving slowly, as if even a hard step would crush her brittle bones. She looked old, fragile.

Grace’s heart gave a sharp squeeze as she realized that even Brenya wasn’t invincible.

“You’ve pushed yourself too hard,” said Grace.

“I do only what I must, child.” Brenya eased onto the bench next to Grace’s clothes. “Your warrior seemed upset. You scared him again.” It wasn’t a question.

“He lied to me. So did you.”

“Hidden truths, not lies.”

“Same thing.”

“Do you think I would choose to hurt you? That my acts hold malice?”

“Just because you don’t mean to hurt me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Convoluted logic. Very human.”

“Well, I
am
human.”

“Yes. And I should not hold you responsible for a mistake of your birth.”

The unintentional jab hurt as much as the rest. Maybe all humans were as sensitive as Grace was, or maybe she was just a wimp. “Why are you here?”

“I sensed your injuries.”

Grace knew better than to ask how. The woman wouldn’t answer. “I’m fine. It’s nothing serious. Save your strength.”

“I also thought you might need to talk.”

“About what?”

“You shared your body with a man you believe lied to you.”

“I don’t know how you know what we did, but I don’t just
believe
he lied—I know it.”

“Do you?”

“You should know, too. You forced him to lie.”

“
Pretend
is a more accurate word, but I see how you could be confused.”

Grace stifled a scream of frustration. “Look, I love you like a mother, but you don’t get to decide how I should feel. You and Torr conspired to hide things from me. You even went so far as to force a vow from him. I’m not okay with any of that.”

“Some things are better left forgotten, child.”

Grace’s voice dropped so close to a growl, it shocked her. “I’m not a child, and I’m sick of hearing you say that. It’s
my
life. I have a right to know what was in it. I have a right to my memories.”

“Forgive Torr. He had no choice. I knew his weak spot and used it against him in a way that ensured he could deny me nothing.”

“That man doesn’t have a weak spot.”

“Yes, he does. You, child, are it.”

She groaned and let her head fall back on the wooden rim of the tub. “Great. Now not only am I weak, but I make those around me the same way.”

Brenya’s tone was one of irritation and warning. “Cease your self-pity. You have what women all over the universe can only wish for.”

“What’s that?”

“A man who would do anything for you.”

“You’re wrong. I wanted to help him, but all he could think about was getting me back here, like some kind of naughty child sent to her room.”

“Theronai males are protective creatures by nature—a trait on which I am depending.”

Oh, no. Grace knew that tone. Devious, cunning, scheming. “What are you planning?”

“Victory.”

Grace climbed out of the water, desperate to find out what she could so she could warn Torr. She grabbed Brenya’s arm—something she never would have done two days ago. “Tell me what you’re going to make him do.”

Brenya covered her hand, and the hot tingle of healing raced over Grace’s skin, erasing all the nicks and cuts she’d suffered.

The older woman bowed slightly for a second before straightening. “You have no need for concern, child. All will be as it is meant to be.”

“What does that mean?”

“You will see,” said Brenya. Then she walked away, leaving Grace dripping and cold.