
ImaJinn Books www.imajinnbooks.com
Copyright ©2004 by Elysa Hendricks
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A November storm brewed, churning the Council River, as Dale huddled on the flat rock at the river's edge. This had been her sister's favorite spot. Now Dale came here to say her farewells to her sister.
Lost amid the river spray, tears rolled unheeded down her cheeks. Seven years was not long enough to ease the grief of loss, but it was time to let go of unrealistic hope. The courts considered Cathy dead and from now on so would she.
When Cathy had first vanished, her clothing found on this very rock, Dale didn't---couldn't---believe her sister had died. The lack of a body fueled her hope that Cathy would be found. But each passing week, month, year without further leads whittled that hope to nothing. Eventually even the police ceased investigating her disappearance.
According to the records, the mysterious man who had stayed with Cathy just before she vanished didn't exist. His clothing was alongside Cathy's on the rock, convincing the authorities that the two had somehow drowned in the river. They had no explanation as to why the bodies never surfaced.
A year later, Dale found pieces of the strange stone from the man's necklace strewn along the riverbank. She didn't turn them over to the police. Instead, she'd strung the largest piece on a gold chain and stashed the smaller fragments away. Since then she'd worn the necklace all the time. In some strange way it provided her with a connection to Cathy.
"Mom?"
Thea's concerned voice was a mere whisper against the rumble of thunder.
Dale dashed away her tears and turned to face her daughter. The wind whipped Thea's waist-length, moon-blond hair around her elfin face until she grabbed the silky mass in one impatient hand. As always, Dale found herself struck with awe that she had had a part in creating the lovely creature approaching. If only Thea's father had lived to see his daughter growing into such a beautiful young woman.
More grief seeped through Dale, but it was the ache of an old wound. Steven had been killed eight years ago. Pain clogged Dale's throat. So many loved ones gone---Steven, her father, Cathy---until only she and Thea remained. No matter the cost she wouldn't lose Thea.
"Mom, are you crazy? The storm will break soon. The way this rock juts out over the water, it's a natural draw for lightning." Thea picked her way down to the rock and held out her free hand. "Come on home now."
Shortly after Cathy's disappearance, Thea's role as daughter had undergone a subtle shift. She wasn't a typical fourteen-year-old, but Dale knew Thea's maturity owed more to her empathic nature than her high IQ. Often it was difficult for Dale to remember this was her child and not some angel sent to earth to comfort her.
"In a moment. There's something I need to do first." Dale reached inside her jacket and lifted the necklace from around her neck. Once she threw the necklace into the raging water Dale knew she would finally be able release her hold on Cathy and get on with her life. The odd milky white stone felt warm to her touch and seemed to pulse and glow in the fading afternoon light. She lifted her arm. The necklace dangled off her outstretched hand.
"Mom! Don't!"
Thea's frantic warning was lost beneath the sharp crack of lightning that lit the cloud dark sky, and everything happened in a blur. A sizzle of energy crackled in the air around her. A calliope of sound drowned Thea's frantic scream of denial. Her panicked features dissolved in a swirl of light and color. Dale closed her eyes, but continued to see the dizzying kaleidoscope. Unable to open her fingers she clung to the white-hot, glowing necklace. A blast of searing heat and then a wave of icy cold rendered her numb.
"Thea-a-a-a!" she screamed until everything went dark.
Raf del Jakar pulled his mount to a halt. At first, the woman lying naked in the snow just ahead appeared dead. Her skin was pale in the weak light of Tareth's one visible moon. Hair, leached white by moonlight and cut boy-short, framed her triangular face. Though slight of build, she had an ample bosom with light brown nipples, which were now puckered in the cold. Honey gold curls guarded her woman's secrets.
As he stared, her woman's eyes flickered open. Blue as the cliffs of the Azul Mountains around him, her gaze didn't plead for help, it demanded. Recognition of her warrior spirit shifted something deep inside him. Then she groaned, her eyes closed and the connection broke.
No matter her need, he had no time for distractions. In less than a moon cycle he must complete his mission. Failure would cost him more than his good name. He'd die or wish he had, and all those he sought to save would be condemned to a fate worse than oblivion. When the twin moon again showed her face he needed to be in position to close the trap on his prey---the slaver, Stefan Devros.
But if he ignored the woman, she would die. However, if he came to her aid, would her fate be any better?
There was no decision to make. Conscience wouldn't allow him to disregard her plight.
He turned in his saddle and glanced back at the motley group following him. Dressed in dirty furs, their hair long and greasy, the three men made Raf's skin itch. The use they would make of the woman did not bear thinking about.
Of the scum that roamed the Azul Mountains, these three were bottom feeders, vicious offal that skittered around the edges of the more powerful, grabbing whatever leftovers they could to survive. Devros used them as scouts, but didn't trust them to handle any raids. Dangerous, but not terribly bright, their lack of intelligence made it easy for Raf to take control of their surveys and bend them to serve his ends. Still, a careful man would never turn his back on them. Raf considered himself a very careful man.
If the woman survived their ungentle attention, she'd end up on the auction block. His stomach clenched at the memories of another slave auction. The stink of fear. Unwashed bodies crowded in pens. The bite of the lash. The grate of the auctioneer's voice. Harsh mocking laughter. The bidding. The screams.
He held up a hand. His quinar shifted restlessly beneath him. This close to their base camp, an abandoned spinmaster cave, the huge shaggy beast was eager to continue, knowing food and rest waited.
Grumbling about the unexpected delay, the men rode up behind him. Their complaints ceased when they saw the woman. Raf prevented them from catching more than a glimpse by dismounting and quickly wrapping her in his cloak. Ava squawked at being disturbed and flapped off his shoulder. Because of its aversion to spinners, the large ebony hawk would choose another roost for the night, but would find him again in the morning.
The woman felt small and fragile in his arms. Like a frightened shecal kit she curled against his chest.
"Camp tonight will be right warm, won't it?" Treman licked his thick lips in anticipation.
A surge of unexpected and unwanted possessiveness made Raf's grip tighten until the woman moaned in protest. It didn't matter to Treman if a woman was willing or not, warm or cold, he took his pleasure without regard for his partner.
"My find," Raf growled. "I claim first rights."
Treman snorted his displeasure, but didn't lodge any further complaint. He and Raf had butted heads before. The tension between them kept Raf on constant edge. The other two stood aside waiting to see who would prevail, ready to dart in and steal whatever scraps they could. Eventually, Raf would have to take care of Treman, but for now he needed the man.
First rights would protect the woman for a day or two, but slavers, in particular Treman, were not known for their honor or their patience. Before too long he and the others would challenge him for their turn with the woman. Raf knew he'd have to find a way to prevent that from happening.
As he juggled his awkward bundle, the woman's hand came to rest against Raf's chest.
On the ground where she had lain was a ragged piece of milk crystal. Though common enough, something about the stone beckoned him. He scooped it up and deposited it in his pocket before mounting his quinar and heading for the shelter of the spinmaster's cave a short distance ahead.
A few minutes later, inside the cave, the warmth from the banked stove hit him like a slap. His cold chafed skin burned as it thawed. Though planting season would soon begin in the valley, cold time still gripped the mountains.
He deposited his cloak-wrapped bundle on the chamber's large box bed, covered the shivering woman with bed furs then stirred the embers in the stove to a roaring blaze. Heat quickly blanketed the room.
From outside the chamber he heard the grumbles of the men as they made their way deeper into the cavern riddled mountain.
As leader of this motley band of slavers, Raf had commandeered the abandoned spinmaster's chamber as his own. The other three made do with an empty storeroom. Though Raf normally saw to his men's comfort before his own, with these three he had no difficulty making an exception. He could hope a cold damp cave would sap their eagerness for trouble.
Still recovering from the cruel reign of a despotic dictator and a bloody revolt, the Dramain farmers, with few young men, were ill prepared to protect themselves. Like a scythe through ripe wheat, the slavers were cutting a devastating swath through the already depleted populace. Though young King Timon of Dramon fought hard to see to the safety of his people, until his country grew stronger the slavers had easy pickings. Weakened by the slavers' raids Dramon now faced an even greater threat---invasion.
With the planting season about to begin, Stefan Devros, the self-proclaimed leader of the slavers, would soon seek information about where to target his raids. Raf's mission was to be the one to provide that information, thereby gaining access to the man.
Through slitted eyelids Dale studied the man as he stood stirring something on the stove. Hair the color of wet India ink hung halfway down his back. In the room's dim light she couldn't tell if his skin was a warm brown from the sun or his natural complexion. He frowned and creases fanned out from the corners of his eyes, revealing his mature age. His cheeks were high, his chin firm. If not for his straight narrow nose, his profile would look Native American. Tall with broad shoulders, he dominated the room.
When he turned toward her, she closed her eyes. Unable to see, she felt vulnerable. All her life, she'd been the strong one. The calm, rational one. The one to whom everyone turned when they needed help. Being dazed and disorientated angered her. She fought against the feeling of helplessness.
Fight or flight? Her heart beat a rapid rhythm in her chest. Wobbly as she felt neither option seemed feasible, but even if she couldn't run or fight him physically, she still had her wits to do battle with him.
What had happened? Who was this man? What did he want? Where was she? Where was Thea? At the thought, the other questions ceased to matter.
Her eyes snapped open. She scrambled to her knees and faced the man. "Thea! Where is she!"
He lifted one eyebrow. "Where is who?"
His calm, quizzical tone fanned the flames of Dale's growing rage. She leaned forward, her fingers curling into tight fists. "Thea, my daughter, what have you done with her? If you've hurt her, I'll rip off your head and spit down your throat."
"A most colorful threat." His soft chuckle sent a ripple of rage through her.
"One I'm more than capable of carrying out. Where is she?"
"Thank the moons I have no knowledge of the child. You were alone when I found you outside this cave."
Though she had no reason to believe what he said, his words rang true. Terror clutched at Dale's soul. "Oh, my God! The lightning might have thrown her into the river. We have to find her." Her bare feet touched the cold floor as she slid from the bed. Her knees buckled and she pitched forward.
He caught her. Where his hands gripped her arms her skin burned. Her face pressed against the warm cloth covering his shoulder. The scent of cold clung to him, along with the pungent aroma reminiscent of horse. Her bare breasts rubbed his chest.
Shock rippled through her. She was naked. Embarrassment gave way to anger. "What happened? Where are my clothes?" She pushed away from him, snatched up the fur blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself.
"There is no lightning and we are far from the river. Return to bed. You are yet weak from your ordeal."
Her legs trembled and her entire body ached. Soft and persuasive, the strange cadence of his voice beguiled her to surrender to the lassitude stealing over her. He swung her easily up into his arms. Being held against his broad chest felt natural.
Still, she struggled weakly against his hold. "No. Thea's only fourteen. We have to find her."
"Rest. I will search for your Thea."
His words eased the dread building in Dale's heart. Like a child she submitted to being placed back on the bed, the fur tucked around her. But she couldn't relax. The room started to spin slowly around her. She grabbed his hand, the one solid, steady object she could reach.
"Promise you'll find her."
"I cannot promise."
He tried to pull away, but she held tight. "Please."
She hated the begging note in her voice, but she'd do anything to find her daughter, even grovel.
"I give you my word I will do what I can to locate your daughter."
Dale turned his words over in her mind. Something about them felt off, but she couldn't concentrate. For the first time since her father and Steven were killed she let go of control and allowed someone else handle the future. She nodded and let herself sink into sleep.
Raf smoothed the tangled wisps of hair from the woman's flushed face.
His carefully phrased promise tasted bitter on his tongue. "Do what I can?" What could he do? The woman spoke nonsense. There hadn't been a lightning storm in this area for months. And the closest river or lake was a day's ride away. Whatever had befallen her had muddled her mind. Even if he could leave her and hunt for this Thea, where should he begin his search? The plateau outside the cave was nothing more than a patch of rocky ground.
She mumbled in her sleep. He leaned close to catch her words. Her breath whispered over his skin. Heat radiated from her as fever ravaged her slight body. Chances were she wouldn't live to see the hollowness of his promise.
He'd seen death in all its unlovely forms, even caused his share. Why did the thought of this woman's death make him rebel?
A knock interrupted his musings. He opened the door. "What?" Raf asked Armat, a small weasel faced man. The most cowardly of the three and the least intelligent, Armat did his best to keep from gaining Raf's attention.
"Shadow," Armat cringed and whined. "Me and da others are going down the mountain ta do some scouting. Treman made me come tell ya."
Raf's first instinct was to stop them. They'd just returned from a tenday long scouting mission through the farming valleys. This was Treman's way of rebelling against Raf's authority. Raf had no doubt they were headed to the nearest tavern to get drunk and whore around. Days of hard travel and the sight of the woman had stirred them to a dangerous pitch. Letting them go might be advantageous, but without Treman, Raf had no way to reach Devros.
Behind him, the woman cried out. "Stefan!"
The slaver's name on her lips chilled Raf's blood.
Armat craned his neck to peer around Raf. His decision made, Raf blocked Armat's view into the room.
"Stay out of trouble. You're no good to me if the local authorities incarcerate you."
Armat looked puzzled.
"Don't let them throw you in jail," Raf amended.
"Right, boss."
After Armat and the others left, Raf turned his attention to keeping the woman alive.
Dale's body ached and her mouth felt dry. What a weird, frightening dream. She stretched and her arms brushed against something soft and furry. Forcing her gritty eyes open, she stared up at the rough rock ceiling above her. Where was the beautiful sky mural Cathy had painted on her bedroom ceiling?
Shock froze her cry of denial. This wasn't a dream. She had to get home and find out if Thea was okay. But before she could do that, she had to figure out where she was.
"How do you feel?"
The sound of a masculine voice made her bolt up. The action made her head spin.
She looked around to locate the owner of the familiar deep voice. She hadn't dreamed him either. Dressed all in black, one booted ankle crossed casually over his knee, he sat at a wooden table. He toyed idly with a deck of what looked like handmade playing cards. A sheathed sword hung over the back of the chair. A steaming bowl of something that smelled delicious and made her mouth water was on the table before him.
"Are you hungry?"
When she noticed how his gaze remained tightly focused on her face, she glanced down. She was naked. Vague memories of her body pressed against his hard chest caused heat to wash up her neck and face. She grabbed at the fallen covers.
Clutching the soft fur to her chest she glared at the man. Fear and embarrassment made her lash out. "Who the hell are you? Where am I? Where's my daughter. And what in the blue blazes is going on?"
He uncoiled his lean muscular body. She couldn't stop herself from cringing away. Though well-versed in the art of self-protection, she knew she wouldn't stand a chance in any contest of strength against this man. His head nearly touched the ceiling of the cave. His presence dominated the small space.
"I am known as Shadow." He stepped closer to the bed. "For the moment, you are a guest in my current home in the Azul Mountains. As to what is going on, as you phrased it, perhaps you can tell me. I found you lying in the snow. For the last day you have been ill. Beyond that, I have no answers for you."
Though his tone was low and gentle, the look in his eyes held a touch of cynical suspicion, as if she had lain naked in the snow to catch him in some kind of trap. She searched her admittedly sketchy memory of geography for the Azul Mountains, but came up blank. Illinois didn't boast any mountains. So where on earth was she?
"Shadow? That's an unusual name." She bit her tongue to keep from blurting out her thoughts. People name their dogs Shadow, not their children. She couldn't afford to antagonize the man. What if he had Thea hidden away somewhere?
As if he could read her mind the lines around his mouth tightened, but his tone remained even. "Shadow is the name I use."
"Yeah, whatever. But it doesn't tell me who you are. Or what I'm doing here. Wherever here is." She waved her arm at the strange chamber. She grabbed at the fur as it slipped lower down her chest.
He shrugged. "I have told you the extent of my knowledge. Now perhaps you will allow me to know your name?"
"Dale Stuart-Taylor."
"Dale? An unusual name."
"My mother liked the unusual. It's short for Dalthea. My father came from a valley in Scotland. Dale means 'valley dweller' and Thea means 'gift.' My mother decided I was her 'gift from the valley dweller.'" Why had she told him that old family story? She should be concentrating on figuring out where she was and finding Thea.
"Well, Dale Stuartaylor, are you joined?"
"Joined?"
"Is there a man whom I should contact for you?"
"You mean married?" The man had a strange way of expressing himself. "I'm a widow."
"Ah." He cast a pointed look at her hands. "Was the bonding distasteful to you? Is that why you no longer wear the man's emblem?"
She touched the third finger of her left hand. The simple gold band Steven had placed there fifteen years ago was missing. She waved her hand in his face. "You thief! Where's my wedding ring?"
"I am no thief." He drew himself to his full height and took a deep breath. His chest expanded to fill her view. "When I found you, you wore no jewelry or---" He paused. "Or clothing. Because of your recent illness, and the trauma you have apparently suffered, I will allow you this one insult. Do not impose again upon my good nature."
"Good nature, my ass." Dale knew she was being foolish. She had no idea who this man was or what he was capable of, but worry and fear about what had happened to Thea took control of her tongue. She knelt on the bed, but still had to tilt her head up to glare at him. "I haven't begun to insult you ... you arrogant, overgrown oaf!"
Like a vise his hands closed around her upper arms as he jerked her up against him. "You will be quiet, woman," he roared.
She sputtered into silence, but refused to retreat.
Now you've gone and done it. Her gaze clashed with his. Anger lit his dark eyes as he stared down at her. His fingers pressed into her flesh like a heated brand. The fact that his relentless grip didn't hurt, told her a lot about his character. This was a man who tempered great strength with restraint. Her father and Steven had both done the same.
Without realizing her intent, she had set him a test. He passed. Some of her concern melted away.
As if he sensed her submission, his look took a heated turn. Where before he gripped, his fingers now stroked. Frissons of pleasure shot up her arms. A slow seductive grin curled his well-shaped lips.
Without thinking she put her hands on his shoulders to push his away and the bed fur slipped down around her hips, leaving her naked in his embrace. His warm earthy scent surrounded her. The soft cotton of his shirt brushed her nipples into sensitized awareness.
"Does the sting of your sharp words conceal a sweet honey?"
"Now wait a minute. You've got the wrong idea. I..."
His lips captured the rest of her protest. Soft yet firm, they moved over hers in a tantalizing way, cajoling and demanding.
No man had been this close to her since Steven's death, and needs she'd ignored for over seven years erupted inside her. Flames licked to life deep in her belly
The heat of his fire threatened to consume her, but like the Phoenix she knew she'd emerge from this inferno reborn. His mouth trailed down her throat toward her aching breasts. Satisfaction hovered a breath away.
No! She couldn't allow him to distract her from finding Thea.
She yanked herself from his arms and kicked out at him. But her reflexes were off. Instead of hitting his groin her foot struck air and, thrown off balance, she toppled back onto the bed.
Surprised by her unexpected response, Raf backed away. She pulled the furs over her flushed body. With her eyes squeezed shut, she curled into a ball. He resisted the urge to stroke the hair from her face.
Confused and aroused, he paced the small chamber. This Dale was a puzzle. Prickly as a needle bush, yet as responsive to his touch as the sensitive toca plant, she lured a man then stung him.
His actions shamed him. Honor demanded he apologize for taking advantage of her, but pride spiked his tongue. Her response to his kiss had not been forced. Even now his body urged him to join her in bed, to pull her beneath him and bury himself in her warm, wet depths. The taste of her lingered on his tongue, and her scent clung to his clothing, leaving him hungry for more. Not since he was ten and seven had he lusted so quickly after a woman.
Memories of Jemel and her calculated treachery, flooded back. Painfully learned lessons cooled his ardor. Women, especially beautiful ones, were not to be trusted. A wise man enjoyed, appreciated, teased, cajoled, maybe even pampered a woman, but he never let one close enough to strike a fatal blow.
What was it about this woman that had slipped her under his usual guard? Was it her small deceptively fragile appearance? Or just the fact that he'd found her alone and helpless that stirred his protectiveness? He refused to reflect on his attraction to her. He would be wise to not judge her on looks. Her sharp tongue alone could flay a man alive. She was like the nika blossom, a delicate, sweet scented, lethal flower. To keep from reaching for her again, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
His fingers closed around warm crystal. Memory of another crystal teased him. Despite what he had seen and heard four annum ago, he dismissed the claim of his friend, Ash. People could not travel from world to world.
What he held was naught but a piece of milk crystal. Found in deposits close to the surface throughout Dramon, Mardelan and Arete, milk crystal was the most common of crystals. This piece's jagged edges scraped his palm. Strange, milk crystal was usually hard, not soft and crumbly.
Another thought chilled Raf's blood and drove away idle speculation about the stone's properties.
The slaver, Stefan Devros often used small pieces of etched crystal to identify strangers he wished to do business with. Raf carried the piece he'd taken off a man Devros had yet to meet. The piece would give him access to the elusive slaver and help Raf destroy him.
In her delirium, Dale had mumbled a familiar name---Stefan. Was she a spy for the slaver?
He studied the bit of milk crystal, but he found no evidence of Devros' mark.
Devros was well known for his cunning and his ability to vanish into the mountains. Few were allowed close to him, and fewer were given his trust. He demanded complete loyalty, constantly testing those who worked for him. Raf had seen the remains of men who Devros believed, rightly or wrongly, had crossed him. The consequence of earning Devros' mistrust would be painfully fatal.
If she was Devros' spy, Raf had to deliver her to the slaver or lose the chance to get close to the man. But if he were wrong, he would be sacrificing her to a living death---one he had experienced himself.
"Shadow?"
Keeping his face impassive, Raf looked at the woman crouching on the bed, but he didn't answer. He didn't trust his voice not to crack and waver like an untried lad's.
"I want ... I need to ... explain. Ah, damn." She bit her lip and ran an impatient hand through her hair. The ends stood up around her face like the pale yellow spiked flowers of the toca plant. "But do you think I could have some clothes first?"
Raf's lips started to twitch. His little spy was shy. He coughed to hide his unwanted amusement. How could she take him from lust to anger to laughter all within minutes? She was his captive. So why did she captivate him?
She peered at him. "Are you laughing at me?"
"Of course not," he managed to choke out. Squashing his smile with a forced frown, he pulled a shirt and pair of trousers from his bag and handed them to her. "Here."
She would drown in his large garments, but at least they would conceal her body from his gaze. Maybe then he could root her from his thoughts.
She snatched the items from his hand and dove under the bed covers. "Thanks."
As he watched, the furs rippled from her contortions as she dressed beneath them. He could no longer restrain his smile.
"There, that's much better." She popped out from under the fur. If possible her hair stood even further out from her head. Now, the tangled fluff around her head resembled the pale gold nimbus of light that surrounded the Eternal One's seraphs. But she looked far from pious.
His oversized clothing should have hidden her attributes instead they were enhanced. His shirt, even though she'd done the buttons up to the neck, hung on her slender frame, exposing nearly all of one smooth shoulder and the slope of her breast. The black color emphasized the warm creamy glow of her skin. The shirt reached down to her knees, but it bunched up at her middle, where she gripped the waistband of the trousers in her hand.
Dressed this way, she would fetch a sizeable sum on the slave auction block. Presented naked, the proceeds would allow a man to retire. Holding her fate in his hands left him torn between conscience and honor.
"Do you have a belt?" she asked.
"Will this do?" He gave her a length of braided rope.
"Yes, thanks." She threaded the rope around her waist and tied it. "Do you think I could have some of whatever it is you're eating? It smells delicious. I'm starved, and explanations always taste better on a full stomach." She looked longingly at the bowl on the table.
He followed her gaze to the now cold stew. "Yes, of course. Come to the table." He held out his hand to assist her from the high box bed, but she scooted just out of reach and off the bed unaided.
She smoothed her hair with her hand, but otherwise seemed oblivious to her appearance. Bold and brash, yet cautious and shy, this woman was a mystery wrapped in a riddle.
"This is wonderful. What is it?" she asked after she'd finished her second bowl of stew, three thick slices of bread slathered with rich haxa butter, and two steaming mugs of gana.
For a small woman, she had a healthy appetite. "What it appears, vegetable meat stew, bread and gana."
"What kind of meat is this? I've never tasted anything quite like it."
His stomach tightened as he watched her lick the grease from her fingers. "Haxa."
"Is that a type of cow? Never mind, it doesn't matter. I think it's time we talked. I need some answers."
Raf settled back in his chair. The woman had the attitude of someone used to being in command. He doubted anyone had ever ordered her around. To make a slave of her, her spirit would have to be not only broken, but also crushed.
Devros was known to have a weakness for strong women. Whether she was Devros' spy or an unfortunate innocent, Raf knew he could use her to get close to the man. The idea stirred to life a conscience he thought he'd buried annum ago. He quashed the tender bud before it could blossom. He could not consider the fate of one woman over the outcome of his mission.
The slavers' activities caused chaos in a country already on the brink of collapse due to a corrupt dictator and a lengthy, bloody civil war. Dramon's tenuous political situation left it ripe for an invasion by its neighbor, the country of Blagden.
Though filled with flaws and risks, his posing as a slaver wanting to join forces with Devros was their last chance to help stabilize Dramon's government. All other attempts to find and rout out Devros' slaving operation had met in failure.
Raf had at most three tendays to locate Devros and lead Dramon's remaining troops to wipe him out. After that it would be too late to halt either the slavers or the invasion. If Dramon fell, Blagden would next cast its covetous eyes on Mardelan. Raf vowed to never let that happen.
"As I told you, I have no answers to how or why you are here. Perhaps it is I who should ask the questions."
"Okay, I'll answer your questions if you'll answer mine. What do you want to know?"
Shadow's features lost their amused look, and a hard dangerous glint filled his eyes. Dale suppressed a shudder and met his gaze without flinching. She sensed this man would admire strength and courage. He would pity and disdain begging or weakness. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed his help. She had to get back to Thea.
At first, she'd wanted to believe he was responsible for everything, but her memory of the lightning and those moments afterward were too clear. Not given to flights of fancy like Thea or her artistic sister, Cathy, Dale considered what had happened.
Was she dead? Dreaming? In a coma? No, she felt very much alive and aware. And Shadow's presence was too real to be part of a bizarre dream. As unlikely as it seemed the only explanation was that somehow Cathy's necklace and the lightning had catapulted her into another world.
Was this what had happened to Cathy? Hope flickered to life in Dale's heart. Could Cathy be in this world? And if she were here could she help Dale get back home to Thea before it was too late?
Shadow's hard gaze made Dale falter. What should she tell him? To stall, she picked up the handmade deck of cards from the table. Her breath caught in her throat. The drawings were Cathy's work. Dale flipped through the deck, studying the beautifully drawn images that reflected the imaginary world Cathy had created with her art.
Had Cathy been in this cave? But if she was still alive why hadn't she come home?
"Where did you get these cards?"
"They were here in the cave when I came. Why?"
"They're beautiful." Dale wanted to demand answers but caution stilled her tongue. Though he hadn't hurt her she couldn't trust Shadow yet.
Thea had always insisted that Cathy was alive---that she'd somehow entered the imaginary world she'd created with her art. More than once Thea claimed that the beautiful mural in Cathy's studio, now Thea's scientific lab, had changed. Though Dale never saw the changes, the realistic mural always made her uneasy.
If she could find Cathy maybe together they could discover the way home. Time was running out for her daughter. Though dialysis was working now, Thea's kidney disease was progressive. To survive she needed a transplant and Dale was a perfect match.
What must Thea be thinking, feeling? Everyone in her life was gone. Tears burned the back of Dale's eyes.
"Where are you from?"
The suspicion in Shadow's question pulled Dale out of her thoughts. If she were in another world, was it wise or safe to tell him everything? She didn't want to find out how this place might treat people they believed insane. "Council Falls." Telling him the name of the town seemed safe enough.
"I have never heard of this place."
"I'm not surprised, it's a small town a long way from here"
His gaze grew even colder. ""What do you remember of how you came to be here?"
"Not much. I was standing by the river with Thea."
"Your daughter?"
"Yes. She's why I have to get home. She needs an operation. Without it she'll die. I have to be there." Talk of Thea softened the harsh glare in Shadow's eyes.
"What happened?"
"I'm not sure. I held up the necklace to throw it away ... Hey, where is it?"
He shook his head, but his gaze did not meet hers. "Why were you throwing your necklace away?"
"It was a symbolic gesture. A way of closing the door on something in my past." She didn't want to go into detail with this man about her feelings for Cathy. Nor was she ready to reveal what she feared might have happened to Cathy and herself.
"Continue."
"I must have dropped it when the lightning struck me. There was a lot of color and sound, and then I passed out. I don't remember anything more until I woke up in your bed." Heat rose up her throat at her memories of not only being naked in his embrace, but her response to him. "Now, it's my turn to ask a few questions. You say you're called Shadow, do you have another name?"
"Shadow is the only name you need know. I, too, have closed the door on my past."
"Fair enough. What are you doing here? And exactly where is here? I know, this is a spinmaster's cave," whatever the hell a spinmaster is, "and we're in the Azul Mountains," wherever the hell that is, "but I still haven't got a clue where I am?" If she voiced her suspicions, he would think her crazy?
Get a grip, girl, she cautioned herself. You've been watching too many sci-fi movies.
"The Azul Mountains are in the country of Dramon, on the northern hemisphere of Tareth." Sarcasm tinged his voice.
"Oh, my God," Dale whispered. Tareth. Shock rippled through her. She was on another world. She'd been abducted by aliens. She peeked at him from below her lowered eyelids. Was he an alien? He looked human enough. "Where are you from?"
Shadow's brow puckered in thought. "I am from the country of Arete."
"What are you doing here then?"
"I think there have been enough questions. You do not look well." Concern etched his face as he leaned toward her.
You wouldn't feel so hot either if you'd just transported to another world, she thought. She needed to think. Thea had to be her first concern. She had to get home, but she also wanted to find Cathy. Before she made any decisions about what to do, she had a lot to consider.
Who was this Shadow? Something about him felt wrong. Was he her savior? Or a threat?
Agonized screams reverberated throughout the chamber.
"Remain here," Shadow ordered as he grabbed his sword and dashed out the door.
"Not likely," Dale muttered at his back.
The screaming continued, growing harsher each moment. It sent chills up and down her back as she followed Shadow through the dim dank tunnel. Her toes curled against the cold wet rock beneath her bare feet. Not eager to know exactly what she walked on, she was glad the only light came from the greenish glow of the moss lining the walls.
Ahead, the tunnel widened. She skidded to a halt beside Shadow. The damp air smelled like rotting potatoes. To keep from gagging, she held a hand over her mouth and took shallow breaths.
He looked down at her and frowned. "I told you to remain in the chamber."
"Yeah, right. What's going on?"
"Look." He moved slightly.
The first thing that caught her eye was the colorful glitter that covered the cave floor. Then movement redirected her attention. Two men stood off to one side watching something that twisted frantically about fifteen feet away. She gulped in horror. The thing was a man or what she thought was a man. Creatures that resembled spiders, hundreds of them, ranging in size from a half-inch to nearly a foot, blanketed him from head to toe.
Only these spiders had a dozen legs and were all colors of the rainbow. Tiny bead-like eyes waved on long stalks above their oval, fur-covered bodies. Gleaming white fangs completed their hideous appearance.
They swarmed over the screaming man, darting across his body as he twitched and tried desperately to pull them off. Again and again they sank their fangs into him. Blood and a grayish-green substance covered every exposed inch of him.
Her stomach threatened to give back her lunch. She wanted to turn away, but felt compelled to watch. She gripped Shadow's arm. "You've got to help him."
"It is too late." He grabbed her arm and started to pull her away.
"No, we can't leave him like that."
The man staggered blindly toward them. Tiny spiders covered his eyes. The other two men darted away.
"Come. He is already dead. The poison is in his blood stream. There is no help for him."
Dale dug in her heels. "We have to try."
She crashed into his back as he stopped suddenly.
"There is but one thing I can do for him. You will not approve," he said, turning to face her.
"Anything is better than leaving him like that."
Before she could ask his plan, Shadow pulled a knife from the sheath at his waist. With a deft twist of his wrist the blade sailed through the air. The screaming abruptly ceased.
Dale whirled around. The ornate hilt of the knife protruded from the man's throat. For a second he stood motionless. Then his body tumbled forward and crashed into the ground. Spiders shrieked, some were crushed beneath the man's weight, and others jumped free. Her knees started to buckle.
Shadow scooped her into his arms and ran. Once inside the chamber, she struggled until he set her down, then she turned on him.
"You killed him!"
"And lost a good knife in the process."
"How can you be so callous? The man is dead because of you."
"Greed and stupidity killed him. By entering the spinners' domain he signed his own death warrant."
He moved around the chamber gathering clothing and supplies.
"What are you doing?"
"We have to leave here. The spinners will follow our scent. They do not make comfortable bedmates."
Dale shuddered at the thought of being covered by those hairy walking nightmares. "Where are we going?"
He didn't answer, so she grabbed his arm and swung him around to face her.
"I can't leave here until I find my necklace." It was her only chance of getting back home. "I have to find it."
"You would risk your life for a piece of jewelry?"
"You don't understand. I need it to get home."
He shook his head in disgust and turned away.
Dale gasped. A fist-sized spider clung to his right shoulder, it's fangs sunk deep into him. How could he not feel it?
"Shadow," she whispered. Beady spinner eyes swiveled toward her.
"We cannot hunt for your necklace. Spinners will soon spill out of this cave searching for food."
"There's one on your back."
He froze. His head turned slightly toward her. "Kill it."
"How?"
"Smash it with something."
"But its fangs are in you."
"It does not matter. Kill it."
She grabbed a heavy wooden platter from the table and swung it. The spider died with a high-pitched shriek. Dale dropped the platter and stared at the squashed mass dripping down Shadow's back. He quickly ripped off his shirt and tossed it in a corner.
White ridges of scar tissue crisscrossed his broad back. What type of injury could have caused such damage?"
She started to reach for him.
"Do not touch it. A spinner's blood is acid. It will burn you."
Dale cringed when she caught sight of the creature's fangs still embedded in his flesh. "What do I do now?"
"Nothing."
He dug into his pack and pulled out a knife. Made of a crystal-like material rather than metal, the well-honed blade gleamed in the yellow lamplight. Holding a highly polished square of black stone, he twisted trying to see his back. The tip of the blade touched the swollen flesh around the fangs, but he couldn't contort himself enough to dig them out. Sweat beaded his forehead as he sagged in defeat.
Stubborn, macho man.
"Need some help?"
His eyes searched her face. Seemingly satisfied by what he saw there, he handed her the knife. The hilt felt warm and smooth in her palm. This one was simple and unadorned with carvings.
"You must cut out the fangs and the flesh surrounding them." He turned his back to her.
The thought of slicing into the bronzed skin covering his muscled back made her stomach churn.
He turned his face toward her. "If you hesitate I will die a most unpleasant death. Spinner poison will make the strongest of men beg to die as their flesh and bone dissolves. Cut now before the poison enters my blood."
"Can't one of your men do this?"
His short laugh lacked humor. "They would as soon see me die by inches. And if I die, you will become their property."
Dale wasn't quite sure what he meant, but his lack of trust in his men was obvious. The fact that they had run damned them in her eyes. She bit her lip, braced one hand on his left shoulder, placed the knife against his skin and pressed. A line of blood welled, and its metallic smell stung her nose. Her hands trembled, but he never flinched.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes. But that is good. You must cut where I still have sensation to be sure you have removed all the infected flesh. The poison has rendered me numb around the fangs. Do it now. Quickly, before the poison spreads."
He braced his hands against the wall and lowered his head. Muscles taut and shoulders flexed forward, he presented his back to her. The raised scars were white on his tanned skin.
"Here goes." She worried her lower lip with her teeth as first she dug out the quarter inch fangs. He never flinched. Then with short quick slices she cut away layer after layer of skin and flesh, an area about the size of a silver dollar and around three quarters of an inch deep. Crimson rivulets rolled down his bare back. A shudder coursed over her. Through the blade digging into his flesh, Dale felt each labored breath he took.
What kind of strength did it take to stand motionless while someone cut you? The knife became wet and slippery in her trembling hand. Blood, warm and salty, filled her mouth from where she bit her lip to keep from screaming for his pain.
Finally, he pulled away and turned. "That is enough." His face looked pale and drawn, his lips a tight colorless gash. He reached into his pack and pulled out a leather wine skin and a clean white shirt. "Pour this over the wound and bind it."
Dale uncorked the wine skin. The strong smell of alcohol burned her nose.
Though he hadn't moved while she cut him, he jerked when the spirits touched his raw flesh. Dale pressed a pad of cloth against the gaping wound to staunch the flow of blood, then bound it with strips torn from the clean shirt. He sagged, his head hanging low between his shoulders, as she gently wiped away the blood from the rest of his back. She let her fingers trace over the scars. This man was no stranger to pain.
When she was done, he took the pouch, lifted it to his lips and drained the remaining liquid. The coarse wine restored a hint of color to his face, but it didn't ease the strain from his dark eyes.
Like her father and Steven, Shadow was a warrior. He would never admit to pain. Never swerve from his goal. Never surrender. Never consider those who loved him over his duty.
He was a man a woman should avoid like the plague.
Long ago she promised herself that she wouldn't allow herself to care for any man. What this Shadow was or wasn't didn't matter to her---couldn't matter to her.
"I'm really grateful for your help, but it's time for us to go our separate ways. I have to find my necklace."
She refused to consider the danger she would face alone, unarmed and barefoot in this unknown world. She knew she was strong and resourceful. She'd survive and find her way home.
To Thea.
Raf watched the woman prepare to leave. Didn't she realize she was his captive? If he didn't hurt so badly he might find humor in the situation. Had he imagined her fingers gently touching the scars he bore? To keep from reaching for her, he shoved his hand into his pocket, and his fingers closed around the stone there.
The stone seemed to vibrate. Or did he tremble?
Raf knew he needed sleep and food to restore his strength and clarity of mind, but he could afford neither. Even if the spinners would not soon attack, he had to follow Treman and Faxan. Without them he stood little chance of locating Devros.
They would tell Devros of the woman. The slaver trusted no one, but he used people effectively and laid claim to all captives. If Raf were to arrive at Devros' stronghold without her, his life would be forfeit. Those who tried to cheat Devros died as slowly and painfully as the slaver could manage.
Whether the woman was connected to Devros or not, there was no time to coddle or cajole her. Raf would have to force her into coming with him.
Grimacing in pain, Raf pulled on his last shirt and stuffed the rest of the supplies in his pack. He handed his cloak to Dale and swung the pack over his left shoulder.
He opened the door to the chamber cautiously. The way appeared clear of spinners, but their pungent smell made him choke.
Dale coughed and covered her mouth and nose with the tail of her shirt. She didn't argue as he led her through the tunnels to the opening.
A quick glance around the plateau confirmed Raf's worst fears. Treman had not only bolted, he had taken all three quinar. Ava, curse her feathery hide, had done nothing. Where was the moon-rattled bird? He and the woman would have to walk. Did she have the strength? Pain blurred Raf's senses and muddled his thoughts. Did he?
Once outside, Dale stopped and stared. All around them the Azul Mountains soared upward, their sheer crystal peaks shimmering in the sun.
Raf watched her eyes widen as she drank in the view the mountains presented. From the pale blue-white of mother's milk to the near black indigo of midnight, the crystalline mountains were a rainbow of blues.
"Beautiful," she whispered. "But this sure as hell isn't home."
As beautiful as he found the mountains, they paled in comparison to her. Head tilted to survey the panorama, she stood poised against the blue backdrop, a gold and cream vision dressed in black.
"I need shoes."
Through a growing haze Raf looked at Dale's bare feet, pink toes curled against the melting snow. Cool and inviting, the snow beckoned him. The warm midday sun dimmed. He staggered.
"Shadow, what's wrong?"
Her question came from far away, though if he reached out he could touch her. His arms felt too heavy to lift. The pack slipped off his shoulder.
"Shadow? Shadow?"
Her voice and form receded down a long narrow funnel until she vanished and he was alone. Panic beat in his veins. If he lost her in these mountains, she would die. He had to find her. Keep her safe.
Shadow crumpled at Dale's feet, his large body limp and lifeless. She crouched next to him and touched his flushed skin. Heat scorched her hand. He burned with fever. A result of the spinner bite?
What should she do? A large hawklike bird circled overhead. Its shrill cries made Dale shiver. She glanced nervously at the entrance to the cave. Would those spinner things follow them out into the snow? She couldn't take the chance. They had to move.
From the plateau, she could see scattered farms and a small town in the valley below. Surely they had some kind of doctor who could help him. But how could she get him there? Shadow had to outweigh her by nearly a hundred pounds. She was strong, but she couldn't carry him. But she couldn't leave him alone and helpless.
Shadow's cloak, pooled around her ankles, gave her an idea. She looked around. Though no trees grew on this small plateau, a hundred yards away the ground sloped downward into an area filled with stunted trees and bushes, their branches still winter bare.
She pulled the sword from the sheath at Shadow's waist. From tip to hilt the sword was nearly four feet long. Lit by the blue light reflecting off the mountain, the red blade glowed with a purplish hue. Using both hands to hold the heavy sword, she studied the opaque blade. She'd never seen material like this. It had the look of polished glass, but the feel of metal. Her fingers only reached halfway around the intricately carved hilt. The odd material felt warm and smooth in her hand, as if it absorbed her heat and gave it back to her doubled.
Unless she was in the midst of a very vivid hallucination, Dale knew for certain she wasn't on Earth. Nothing like this sword, these mountains, or those ugly spider-like monstrosities existed on Earth.
Inside Shadow's pack she found his last pair of pants, which she cut apart and used to wrap around her feet as makeshift shoes.
Ignoring her chattering teeth, she went in search of sturdy branches she could use to fashion a travois on which she could drag him down the mountain.
The bird landed on a boulder a few yards away. It seemed to watch her. Every time she got close to Shadow, the bird shrieked. But since it didn't attack, Dale ignored its complaints.
It took her the better part of an hour to find and chop loose the correct size poles for the crude sled she was building. She cut holes along the edges of the cloak. Then using strips of cloth torn from the shirt she wore, she attached the cloak to the poles in a wedge shape. Though hardly elegant, the structure was as sound and solid as she could make it. She only prayed it would hold together under Shadow's weight.
The whole time she worked she kept one eye on Shadow. He never moved. Only the sound of his ragged breathing reassured her he was still alive. She also watched the mouth of the cave. In the dim opening she caught glimpses of beady eyes watching her. She guessed the spinners didn't like the light and hoped they wouldn't venture out until the sun went down. Which, judging by the growing shadows, would be soon.
She placed the travois next to Shadow. The bird spread its wings. Dale glared at it. "What's your problem, bird?"
At the sound of her voice, the bird folded its wings and cocked its head toward her.
"That's better. Now go away. I've got work to do. Shadow and I need to get out of here before those spinner things get hungry and come looking for dinner."
The bird looked at her and then toward the mouth of the cave. Dale almost believed the bird understood her. After that it just watched her, which was better than its constant screeching.
By pushing, tugging and pulling she managed to roll Shadow onto the cloak. Sweat rolled down her back before she succeeded. With the sun setting, the air turned cool. She shivered as the sweat dried.
His feet hung off the bottom edge. She tore more strips from her shirt and tied him down.
He moaned and started to thrash.
She knelt next to him and placed her hand on his forehead. "You have to lie still. I'm going to get you down the mountain to the village. They must have a doctor there who can help you."
Instantly, he stilled. His eyes opened and he gripped her arm. "Sundown ... spinners will ... follow. You cannot ... outdistance them ... burdened with a dead man." The words rasped through his chapped lips. "Leave me."
"You're not dead yet. I won't leave you." When he had collapsed at her feet the thought of abandoning him had never occurred to her. "Just lie quiet. This sled is rather crude, but if you don't wiggle around, it might hold together." She went to the front of the travois and lifted the poles. Her back and shoulders protested the weight and awkward position, but when she started walking, the travois moved easily over the uneven ground.
"You are a foolish ... stubborn woman."
She barely heard his words before he fell silent. When she glanced back, his eyes were once again closed, and the bird landed on the side of the travois.
The extra weight threw off her balance. She tried to shoo the bird away, but it pecked at her with its wicked looking beak. Since it seemed to be attached in some way to Shadow and didn't try to hurt him, she gave up and let it ride.
During the trip down the mountain, the strain of pulling the heavy travois made her arms, legs, and back ache until they went numb. Sweat soaked her shirt, and then cooled in the chill air. She longed to lie down next to Shadow's heated body. Instead, she shivered and trudged onward.
The end of the mountain path opened onto a broad fertile valley. She paused. From there a frozen dirt road led toward the village. Overhead the sun sank toward the horizon, painting the wispy clouds in glorious shades of pink and violet. She looked back at the mountain, a blue-black silhouette against the sky. How far would the spinners pursue them?
As if he'd heard her question, Shadow roused from his stupor. "Spinners do not travel far ... We are safe."
Before she could ask for more information, he lapsed back into a semiconscious state.
About a half mile ahead Dale could see a farmhouse. Though the road that way was rutted and muddy, she didn't think she had the strength to reach the village before darkness fell. Most farmers were self-sufficient. Maybe they could help Shadow or call someone for help.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. Did this world have phones? So far she hadn't seen anything remotely modern. No jet streaks in the sky. No telephone poles or electric wires. No cars. She hadn't seen any people, either, other than the small moving specks down in the valley.
Adjusting her grip on the poles, she winced in pain and looked at her hands. Raw and bloody, her palms slipped on the rough poles. She bit her lip, tightened her hold and plodded forward. Years of martial arts training had taught her to endure discomfort without complaint and get the job done.
As she approached the farmhouse, two children peeked out at her from an open barn door. Both were dressed in overalls and barefoot. The little girl was about four or five, with tangled brown pigtails and chocolate brown eyes. Freckles danced across her turned up nose. She smiled shyly at Dale. The boy was several years older, and his dark brown hair was cut straight and short. He frowned and suspicion darkened his gaze as he pushed the little girl behind him into the barn's concealing shadows.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice shifting octaves. "What is wrong with him?" He pointed at Shadow.
"We're travelers. Are your parents around? My ... friend's been injured. We need help."
The little girl peered around the boy, then dashed off toward the house, yelling, "Papar! Strangers! Papar!"
"Amme," the boy cried.
The door to the house slammed open. Footsteps sounded on the wooden porch and stairs. Dale turned in time to see the little girl scooped into the arms of an older boy. He quickly disappeared back into the house with her, and a large, burly man came out. Built like a professional wrestler, the man was an intimidating sight, even without the wicked looking sword he wielded with obvious skill.
Holding his sword aggressively, he stopped a few yards away. "Who are you? What do you want here?"
"I ... we..."
Dale struggled to hold the poles, but they started to slip from her slick fingers. Her muscles screamed in agony as she crouched to keep the travois from falling and dumping Shadow on the ground. The bird squawked and flew off.
Shadow's groan drew the man's attention.
"Your man is ill?" He took a step back. "What ails him? Does he carry the plague?"
"No. A spinner bit him. I cut out the poison, but he took ill anyway. I hate to impose, but can you help him? We're strangers here. We were crossing the mountains. Bandits stole most of our possessions and our transportation and left us in the mountains." Dale struggled to concoct a story as close to truth as possible. One that wouldn't reveal just how much of a stranger she was. Fatigue muddled her thinking, making her feel slow and clumsy.
The man lowered his sword, but kept it ready. "I am Dolan. Few who come from the mountains come in peace. Of late, slave raiders have harassed us. A tenday ago my lifemate and infant son were taken." His voice grew husky. He cleared his throat and called, "Thom. Mozin. Amme."
The two children and a young man hurried to their father's side. Mozin, the smaller boy and Amme both resembled their large father, dark-haired and dark-eyed. But the young man, Thom, was tall, with fiery red hair. Though slender, his body was well toned, with a tensile strength that didn't depend on size alone. His sea green eyes had seen much but revealed little. His stare made Dale shift nervously.
"These are my children."
"I'm Dale and this is Shadow. Can you call a doctor for him?" Dale asked.
"The village healer is away, but we will do what we can for your man. Amme, help Mozin prepare the extra bedchamber. Thom help me carry the man inside."
Dale limped after them into the house. Her half frozen feet burned as they started to thaw. The smell of roast meat and fresh bread filled the comfortable dwelling. Her stomach grumbled loudly. Dolan's grin made her blush.
Once in the bedroom, her blush deepened as she and Dolan stripped off Shadow's clothes.
Dolan's mouth tightened as he took in the scars on Shadow's back. "He carries the mark of the lash."
"Someone did this deliberately? Why?"
Dolan traced a scar with his fingertip. "Whoever wielded the lash knew his business---to inflict pain without killing or maiming. Why don't you know whether your man spent time as a slave or paid for a crime under that lash?"
"We haven't been together long. He keeps his past to himself."
Dolan frowned, but he seemed to accept her explanation for her lack of knowledge about Shadow. "There are many who suffered unjustly before King Timon came into power."
A slave? A criminal? Neither description fit the Shadow she knew. But then she didn't really know him, did she?
But she needed him alive. Despite her words back at the cave about their parting company, she knew that without him she might never find her way home to Thea.
"Will he live?
Dolan looked at Dale. "I think he will survive. He is young and strong. The thick scarring probably blocked the poison. If you cut deep enough around the spinner bite you most likely stopped the poison from entering his blood stream. He will run a fever for a few days and be sore for awhile longer, but he should suffer no further effects."
"And if I didn't cut deep enough?" Beyond her natural compassion for another living soul, and her need of him, why should she care so desperately that Shadow live? She'd only known him for a day.
"Then the poison is already killing him from the inside out. We will have the answer by morning. He will either start to improve or he will die. I am sorry I cannot promise you better. Come. You must eat and rest yourself. Amme will draw you a hot bath. And I will find you some proper attire."
Reluctant to leave Shadow's side, Dale allowed herself to be led away. But after a quick bath and a hasty meal, she hurried back and stationed herself in a chair next to his bed. While she was away, Dolan had rebandaged Shadow's wound. Weary down to her bare and blistered feet, she watched him sleep. His skin looked pale and waxy, without the healthy robust glow he'd had when she first met him. Fingers lax, his hands lay motionless atop the blankets. His broad chest rose and fell in a reassuring rhythm.
She told herself that her gratitude for his help, and her future need of it, made her keep vigil at his side. Experience warned her to run away from him as fast and as far as she could. Caring for a man like Shadow could only result in heartbreak, particularly when he lived in another world.
But when she was helpless, he'd cared for her. She couldn't abandon him now. Besides, he might know more about how she came to this world than he was letting on. She had to stick close to him and learn what he knew. She'd just have to guard her emotions.
Dolan's surprisingly gentle touch on her shoulder startled her. The older man stared down at her with understanding.
"You need to rest. Your collapse will do him no good."
"I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for us. Were these your wife's clothes?" She touched the simple white cotton blouse and a colorful peasant skirt he'd given her to wear. He'd also found a pair of sandals, but her feet were too tender to wear them yet.
He nodded and blinked eyes heavy with unshed tears. "My Saree would want you to have them. I pray that wherever she is, someone will do as much for her in her hour of need. I brought a salve for your hands and feet. It is made by the Sisters of Light, a group of learned women dedicated to healing. It should relieve the pain and quicken the healing. I used it on Shadow's wound."
"How does his wound look?"
"It is clear of discoloration. I believe you got all the poison. Morning will tell the tale. Now you must sleep. Since I know you will not leave his side, I have brought you bedding." He chuckled softly and placed several thick wool-like blankets and a heavy fur robe on the wooden floor next to the bed. "Rest well." He patted her shoulder and left the room.
Dale spread the thick, sweet scented salve on her hands and feet. Almost instantly the throbbing pain lessened. She laid down on the soft warm blankets and curled under the silky fur robe. A cheery fire burned in the room's small hearth, warming and filling the air with a piney aroma.
She had no idea how much time had passed when an insistent tapping noise jolted her from sleep. She looked up at the room's small window. On the outside ledge the bird kept watch.
Exhaustion washed over her, but worry and fear kept her from returning to sleep. The sight of Dolan's children, especially the little girl, had stirred to life her longing for Thea. She'd been gone for nearly forty-eight hours. What was happening to Thea? Did she understand what had occurred?
She and Dale had discussed Cathy's disappearance many times. While Dale had believed that Cathy was dead, Thea had never given up hope. She claimed she had dreams about a Cathy who wasn't Cathy, about the imaginary world of Remal that Cathy had created in her art. Worried about the child, Dale had considered taking her for counseling, but before she did, Thea's dreams stopped. Or she stopped talking about them.
Always a fey child, Thea was also gifted in other ways. She excelled in school, and her sweet nature attracted people like honey drew bees.
Had Cathy disappeared into this strange world, never to return? Tears seeped from under Dale's closed eyelids. Was she doomed as well? Would she ever see her daughter again?
Warrior caution made Raf keep his eyes closed. He slowed his breathing and remained still long after he returned to consciousness. One by one he tested his limbs. A painful ache, radiating from his upper back, encompassed his whole body. The sweet, familiar scent of moist dirt and newly sprouted grasses filled the air, along with the tantalizing aroma of fried kokora eggs, meat strips and fresh baked bread. His stomach growled, and he stiffened, preparing himself for his enemy's blow.
Dale's laughter, rich and satisfying as chilled buttermilk on a hot day, eased his tense muscles.
"So you're finally awake."
At the sound of Dale's voice, he opened his eyes and looked up.
She leaned over him. Her skin glowed pink and cream in a shaft of sunlight. Her fresh, clean fragrance awakened a deeper hunger in him.
"Where are we?" he rasped as she helped him into a sitting position. Her hair brushed his arm and it felt like the pelt of a shecal kit. Warmth surged through him. Food was forgotten.
"In a farmer's home at the foot of the mountains. You've been ill for three days."
Three days! Could he still track Treman? He surged upward. Or tried to.
Her hand on his shoulder held him pinned to the bed. Why was he so weak?
"Your body is still getting rid of the spinner poison." When she stepped back, he missed her warmth. "Eat. It'll build up your strength. Dolan is quite an accomplished cook." She reached for a tray sitting on a small table next to the bed.
"Dolan?" Raf accepted the food-laden tray.
"Our host. He owns this land and is the village crystal smith, whatever the heck that means. He and his children have been very kind." She perched on the wooden frame of the bed. "Now eat. You've had nothing but broth since I dragged you down the mountain."
He eyed her slender frame. "How did you get me down the mountain?"
"I rigged a travois from some branches and your cloak and just pulled you down."
Though she shrugged it off, he knew it could not have been easy.
"Why?" He felt compelled to ask.
She looked surprised by his question. "To save your life. I couldn't just leave you for those creatures' next meal, could I?"
"Why not? You know nothing about me."
"You didn't know me when you saved my life, but you did it. A life for a life. We've even now."
Even. The debt between them was paid. What he did next would tip the scales beyond redemption.
Raf's hand trembled as he lifted an egg soaked piece of bread to his lips. A dollop of yoke fell, landing on his bare chest.
"Let me help." With her fingertips, Dale wiped the food from his skin, and then relieved him of the bread in his hand. His skin tingled as he watched her pink tongue lick the warm yellow yoke from her fingers. The tray rocked at his body's unexpected reaction to her casual sensuality. He steadied the tray with shaking hands.
Seemingly oblivious to his arousal and her own part in it, she fed him with practiced efficiency while explaining where they were. Was she the guileless innocent she appeared or a skilled deceiver sent by Devros to trap him? Either way he could not succumb to her charms, or allow her to sway him from his goal. Honor and vengeance guided him down the path he trod.
Each mouthful increased his energy. Muscle aches faded. Strength returned. Drawing on a lifetime of training, he banished weakness. Time did not permit vulnerability. If he hesitated, Devros would evade him.
When he finished, she lifted her hand to his mouth. Before she could use her fingers to wipe away the crumbs from his lips, he caught her wrist in a steely grip. "Do not start this unless you intend to finish it."
"What?" She looked confused then comprehension, followed by anger, darkened her blue eyes to deep violet. Color swept up her throat and into her cheeks. Bristling like an enraged shecal, she tried to pull free of his hold. "Let me go."
"When I am ready." Her pulse raced as he stroked her inner wrist with his fingertips. "Your attraction to me will make our trip most enjoyable."
The bed rocked as she sprang to her feet. She jerked her hand free. Blue fire sparked in her eyes, and her chest heaved in agitation beneath the thin cotton of her loose blouse. Silky strands of hair created a golden halo when she tossed her head. "Attracted to you? Ha! I'd as soon touch a---a spinner. And who says I'm going anywhere with you ... you conceited ... hairy ... baboon!"
She spun away, her skirt swirling around her legs like a colorful whirlwind as she stomped away.
Raf stroked a hand over his smooth chest. Conceited, perhaps, but a baboon? What manner of creature might it be? Judging from her tone, not an attractive one.
Raf stiffened as she brushed past the large man entering the room. Without taking his attention off the stranger, Raf scanned the room for his weapons. But the small chamber was empty of all but the bare necessities---bed, dresser, and washstand. Comfortable, but simply furnished, the room was obviously one set aside for guests.
Though Dale seemed not to fear the man, experience had taught Raf to assume nothing. He palmed the small butter knife and straightened to greet his reluctant host.
Broad of shoulder, the man filled the doorway. Tiny burn scars crisscrossed his thickly muscled arms, evidence of his trade as a crystal smith. Large calloused hands held a bundle of cloth.
"You look better. And must be feeling so as well, for your woman to lose her temper with you." He laid the bundle down on the bed. "I have brought you some fresh clothing. Would you like to bathe first?"
The man's tone was friendly, but his eyes held a deep-rooted suspicion. Body coiled and ready to react, he watched Raf through narrowed eyes.
"You are Master Dolan?" Raf eased his grip on the butter knife. The man had had plenty of time to do harm, if that had been his intention.
"Just Dolan. We here in Dramon do not judge a man by his title, but rather by his character and deeds. From where do you come? Your accent is strange to me." Dolan's words held a warning and a threat. Shadow understood the man was letting him know that he offered his hospitality to an injured stranger, but if his trust were betrayed he would exact a terrible penalty.
"We travel from the mountains of Arete." Best to tell as much truth as possible when spinning a complicated web of lies.
Dolan looked doubtful, but he did not press further. "Let me show you to our bathing chamber. We are fortunate that the mountain's hot springs bubble to the surface not far from here."
Future guilt and regret churned in Raf's gut, but his path had been decided annum ago. There could be no faltering, no turning back from his fate. Knowing that he would soon betray this man, Raf accepted his arm.
Thoughts of Thea pushed aside Dale's aggravation with Shadow. A week! She'd been gone a week.
Since she'd been with Dolan and his family she'd asked careful questions about where she was. The answers left her feeling confused and helpless. She wanted---needed to get home, but she had no idea how to accomplish it. Her only hope was to find her necklace. Somehow, it had brought her here, so maybe it could take her home. And as much as she disliked admitting it, to find her necklace she needed Shadow's help.
What had Thea done when she vanished? Was she feeling well? Was she getting to the hospital for her treatments? Worry and fear churned inside Dale.
After Cathy's disappearance, Dale had taken the precaution of arranging a trust for her daughter and listed her friend, Scott and his wife, Gail as guardians. They'd make sure Thea wasn't placed in foster care, that she was cared for. But they had a new baby to command their love and attention. Who would ease Thea's pain of abandonment?
Dale touched her abdomen. And without her kidney to transplant into Thea, her daughter might die. She had to get home---soon!
Why hadn't she taken the time to look for her necklace before she came down the mountain? Fear of the spinners and Shadow's injury were no excuse.
But what else could she have done? She couldn't have left Shadow to die, nor could they have stayed outside the spinner cave to search for her necklace, particularly when she didn't know where Shadow had found her.
She kicked at a clod of freshly turned ground. Guilt stirred her anger and fueled her aim. The clod flew through the air and smacked Thom square in the chest.
Stunned, the boy stopped and stared at her.
"Oh, gosh, Thom. I'm sorry. Are you hurt?" Dale hurried forward and started to wipe the crumbling dirt from the boy's chest. He caught her wrist in a strong grip.
"Do not worry. I am unharmed. What angers you so on this fine day?"
He let her go, stepped back and studied her. Something about this young man confused Dale. She longed to confide in him, explain where she was from and her need to return home to Thea, but he probably wouldn't believe her. If she hadn't lived through it herself, she wouldn't believe it either.
"Nothing really. Just stress. I was worried about Shadow."
"But he mends well?"
"Yes, of course. It's just ... I don't know. He frustrates me so."
Thom's grin transformed his seemingly ordinary features. His gray-green eyes sparkled with laughter. "He is a man. Of course he frustrates you. Men are totally illogical creatures. They think with their little heads, not their larger ones."
Dale stared at the boy and realized her mistake. Though Thom dressed in male attire and cut his hair short, Thom was no more a boy than she was. Thom was female. That's why she understood Dale's exasperation with Shadow.
"You're a girl."
"I know." Thom quickly masked the sudden fear in her eyes.
"But why do you hide it?"
Thom shrugged. Her casual gesture was at odds with the fists clenched at her sides. "When I was young I lived on the streets. At that time, Dramon was in the midst of a rebellion and the streets were dangerous for those unprotected by power or family. Until Dolan took me in I had neither. By the time he learned my sex I had already begun as his apprentice. Even now, people would look askance at a female crystal smith, so I maintain the charade. I am good at what I do and do not wish to give it up to please some man. Few are allowed to know my secret."
"I'm honored to be in that company. Your secret is safe with me."
"Good. I deal harshly with those who betray me or mine." Thom cast a glance toward the mountains. "Come, let us return to the compound. With the melting of the snow the mountain passes will open. It is not safe to be out alone and unarmed."
Dale eyed the sword hanging at Thom's waist. "You're hardly unarmed. That blade looks fairly lethal to me. Do you know how to use it?"
"Of course. To create a proper weapon a crystal smith must know how to use one." Thom's head lifted in affronted pride. "Though young, both Mozin and Amme are training in the use of weapons. We will no longer be easy pickings for any slaver." Bitter anger and a cold warning rang in Thom's voice.
"I'm sorry about Dolan's wife and baby."
"Saree refused to learn to wield a sword. The soul of peace and harmony, she was an odd choice of lifemate for a crystal smith, but a good woman and mate, nonetheless. They were taken just before the last fall of snow. When we found them gone, Dolan and I followed, but the storm closed the pass. When it opens we will find them and return them home."
Talk of family made Dale's heart ache for Thea and what she must be suffering. She had to get home.
Maybe she could go into the mountains with Dolan and Thom? Once there she could hunt for her necklace.
Had it made the trip with her from Earth? Maybe it was lying outside the spinner cave. Or had it vanished into the maelstrom of sound and light that had brought her here? She had to know. And if she found the strange stone, would it help her go home? She had to try.
"I'll come with you."
Thom threw back her head and laughed.
"What's so funny?" Dale demanded. "I managed to bring Shadow down the mountain by myself."
"So you did. You are to be commended for that feat." Thom stifled her amusement with obvious difficulty. "But that is different than going after slavers. You are such a tiny thing. The slavers control the mountains. There might be fighting. You could not even lift my sword, let alone swing it in battle. No, you can stay here. Dolan and I would accept your help in caring for the young ones."
"A person doesn't need great size or large weapons to protect themselves." Dale cocked her head and looked Thom up and down. She had seven inches on Dale's five feet three inches and outweighed her by about thirty-five pounds. "Take off your sword and I'll demonstrate."
"You wish to wrestle?" Thom sounded amused by the idea, but untied the scabbard from her waist and set it carefully aside. "Even though I am not oversized, I will crush you."
Dale grinned. "We'll see, won't we?" Could she take her? Out of practice since she'd sold her half of the martial arts academy to her partner Scott, Dale wasn't sure. But she still knew a few tricks. Even if Thom did crush her, she'd give a good accounting of herself first. Maybe enough to convince her she was a good companion to have along.
Raf watched from the door to the bathing hut as the two squared off. "They are going to fight. I must stop them. Dale will be injured."
Dolan placed a heavy hand on Raf's shoulder. "Thom will not hurt your woman. They but test one another."
"Why?"
Dolan shrugged. "When they are done, we will ask."
Raf stiffened, then forced himself to relax. He was not ready to confront Dolan, and he wished to see how Dale handled herself. Her strength and skill constantly amazed him. What other tricks did she conceal beneath her fragile appearance?
Dale stood easily, body poised, hands held loosely at her sides. With a grunt, Thom lowered his head and charged. Strong arms sought to grab and tackle his smaller opponent. Arms closing around empty air, he tumbled forward. Surprise flickered across his face as he straightened and located Dale standing a few yards away. Again he charged. And again Dale sprang easily out of reach.
Giving an angry growl, Thom changed his tactics. On his third charge he turned midway and caught Dale around the middle. Raf tensed as the two went down. The soft ground cushioned and coated them in mud as they rolled. Other than by size he could no longer tell them apart.
Thom twisted and slid free. He stood. His foot shot out toward Dale's belly. Dale caught that foot. In a blur of motion their places were reversed. Thom lay face down, helpless on the ground, with Dale's foot on the back of his neck.
Relief, then confusion, flowed through Raf. Where had Dale learned such warrior magic? Never had he seen this method of fighting. Size and weight of the opponent mattered little, even worked against them. If a larger adversary also knew those tricks, would the outcome be the same?
Dale lifted her foot and reached down toward Thom. Hands clasped, the two stood side by side. Then they both headed toward the bathing hut built into the side of the mountain's base.
Raf and Dolan followed.
Dale entered the steamy dim enclosure first.
"You fight well for a midget," Raf heard Thom say. "Next time you will not surprise me with your tricks. I will squash you."
"Probably," Dale admitted with a laugh.
"You are welcome to fight at my side anytime, Tiguer."
Small warrior. Thom's name for Dale fit. But for which side did she fight?
"Thank you, Amazon."
Raf tasted the unfamiliar word and found it, too, fit.
Before he and Dolan could announce their presence, Thom disrobed. Raf swallowed his gasp of surprise. The boy was a woman. He glanced at Dolan. With his mouth set in a hard line, the man stared back, but he said nothing. Raf looked back in time to see Thom slide into the inky water of the bathing pool.
"Will you teach me this unusual fighting technique?" Thom asked.
"Be glad to." Dale's skirt and blouse fell into a muddy heap.
Thoughts of Thom's sex vanished as Dale turned her naked body toward him.
Arms folded across his barrel chest, Dolan leaned against the rock wall. To allow the women a measure of privacy, he kept his gaze leveled squarely on Raf. Raf found he could not do the same. Instead, he drank in the sight of Dale.
Her skin, where not covered with drying mud, glowed pale pink in the steamy lamplight. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on her chest. Her nipples were soft in the warm air. Would they pucker for him to suckle?
With a contented sigh, she eased herself into the heated pool.
"This is marvelous."
"A benefit of living close to the base of the mountains. But it hardly outweighs the risk," Thom countered.
"When do you and Dolan leave to track the slavers?"
"At the end of this tenday, the children will go into the village to stay with Dolan's mate's family. Then we will go."
Raf looked at Dolan. He and Thom planned to chase the slavers into their stronghold. How foolish could they be? If not killed outright, they would find themselves on the auction block. Since First Minister Cathor had abandoned his mountain castle, Devros' claim on the mountains was uncontested. He didn't suffer interlopers. So far, all attempts to rout him had failed. He was well hidden and protected. With each raid, his strength grew, along with his boldness.
Even if Prince Ash hadn't set Raf the task of finding and destroying the slavers' operation, annum ago his feet had been set on this path.
Slavery was an abomination---a disease---that destroyed people and nations. To see an end to slavery he would gladly die. And if his plan to find the slavers' stronghold and send his message to Dramon's troops failed, he most likely would die or wished he had.
As a slave, Dolan's fate would be the illegal crystal mines, never again to see the light of day, working in the dark until the crystal crushed his body and spirit. Thom would spend the rest of her short life on her back with sweating shoats pumping away above her.
"I'm going with you," Dale said.
"No!" Raf pushed away from the wall into the lamplight. It was past time he showed this woman who was in charge. If innocent, she would be far safer at his side than trekking into the mountains with Dolan and Thom. If in collusion with Devros, then Raf needed to keep her even closer.
Thom growled and grabbed the sword she'd laid next to the pool.
"Get out of here, you sneaky peeking Tom!" Dale threw her muddy blouse at Raf as he approached. "How dare you spy on us?" The blouse smacked against his bare chest and slid down to the ground, leaving a brown streak.
He frowned as he moved closer to the pool. Mouth open, she watched, mesmerized as with one hand he wiped away the mud and the other he slowly unfastened the buttons on his trousers.
"What do you think you're doing?" she sputtered.
"I was clean. Now I am again dirty. You may wash me."
Behind her, Thom scrambled from the pool and snatched up one of the towels kept on a shelf. She wrapped it around herself, gathered up her dirty clothing and started to leave.
"Where are you going?" Dale asked, still submerged in the water.
"This is between you and your man. Dolan and I will leave."
The two of them beat a hasty retreat.
"Don't go," Dale called to their backs. She turned to face Shadow. "You can't come in here."
"Why not?" His trousers fell to the stone floor. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut as he stepped out of them and continued toward her.
"I'm naked."
"So? I have seen you naked. And since you cared for me during my illness, I assume you have seen me naked as well."
Anger forgotten, she backed up. "That's different."
"How?" He slid silently into the pool.
At the feel of the water rippling, she opened her eyes. He was only a few feet away. "It just is. Stay away."
"What do you fear, Tiguer? Will not your warrior tricks work in the water?"
He moved closer. The heat of his body seemed to set the water around them to boil.
She backed against the smooth side of the pool. "My tricks as you call them, are hard earned skills. You'd never lay a hand on me," she bluffed. A warrior of his size, strength and skill would soon overpower her.
He leaned toward her, placing a hand on either side of her head. "I would enjoy getting my hands on you," he whispered into her ear. His breath felt cool against her heated skin. "Finish what you started earlier. Touch me, Tiguer."
"Don't call me that." Only inches of water separated their bodies. Something hard and hot brushed against her belly. She trembled.
His dark hair trailed in the water creating black spikes from the shiny mass. His lips hovered over hers. She could smell the sweet cinnamon scent of gana on his breath.
"Call you what? Little Warrior? That is what you are. A pocket-sized warrior, full of passion and courage, if not much sense." He pulled back slightly, but kept both hands bracketing her face. "I forbid you to go into the mountains with Dolan and Thom."
"You what?" She shoved her hands against his chest. He barely budged. "Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do? You don't own me."
Anger and some other emotions blazed in his eyes. His hands closed around her head. "Do I not? What do you know of me, Tiguer?" His voice rasped as if he forced himself to speak. "I found you in the mountains. Mountains controlled by the slavers. Does that not make you wonder?"
What was he trying to tell her? His nearness made her body sing and muddled her thinking. He couldn't be in league with slavers, could he? She searched her memory of what had happened in the mountains. Her glimpse of the men he rode with had been brief, but they'd had an unsavory look about them.
"You can't be a slaver?" No, she couldn't believe this man could be so low.
He chuckled, a rough sound, lacking in humor. "Can't I? Because I saved your life? Yours is a life worth saving. On the auction block you will fetch a tidy sum. Or perhaps Devros will fancy you himself. It does no harm to curry favor with those in power."
"No," Dale moaned in disbelief. How could she have been so wrong about him? Why did he tell her this now? "I'll tell Dolan, he'll stop..."
Shadow's fingers slipped around her throat. She gasped slightly at the pressure against her windpipe.
"Tell him and seal his fate." He paused, a cold, calculating smile on his sensuous lips. His words left that fate to her imagination.
Even now Dale found herself wondering what his lips would taste like. "What do you want?"
"You will decline to travel with Dolan and Thom. Instead, you will leave with me."
"And if I refuse?"
"Best you not push me that far, woman."
"You're so sure of yourself?"
"Nothing in this life is sure but death. Would you dance on my grave?"
"I would spit in your grave. Does your promise mean nothing?"
For a moment his hard mask softened. Then he growled and pressed close. "I kept my word. I searched the area around the spinmaster's cave for any sign of your child. Another with your looks and spirit would bring me more gain. Sadly, there was no sign of her."
"You promised to find her." Dale was glad caution had kept her from revealing everything to this man. Who knew what use he would make of her information.
"No, Tiguer, I promised to do what 'I could.' That I did."
Tears of betrayal stung the back of her eyes as she looked at him. "You play with words. If I go with you what do I gain?"
"I will leave Dolan and his family untouched."
"And when they head into the mountains after the slavers?"
"I will make sure they do not go."
"How?" She reached out and gripped his upper arm. "Promise you won't hurt them."
"But my promise is worthless, is it not?"
"Please." The plea tasted sour on her tongue, when she longed to lash out at him instead.
He covered her fingers with his hand. "They will not suffer permanent harm. Do you agree to my terms?"
"What choice do I have? I agree."
Rage made her gut clench, banishing the pain of his betrayal. For the moment he held the upper hand. Her concern for Dolan and his small family tied her hands. But soon she and Shadow would be alone. Then he'd discover just how dangerous an angry, desperate mother could be.
The next day, like playful ghosts, wisps of early morning fog swirled across the fields. As Dale and Shadow prepared to leave the Dolan farm, a faint blush of tender green touched the dark rich ground, and the fresh scented air rang with cheerful bird song. Shadow's annoying pet bird circled the valley, its raucous cries the only discordant note.
A complaint bubbled to Dale's lips, but at Shadow's quelling look she swallowed it. None of her arguments or pleas had swayed the man. Though he said nothing more about being in league with slavers, he insisted that she travel with him. Finally she decided she had a better chance of finding her necklace with him than without him. But their truce was a fragile one. One she knew would end once they left this valley. Why waste her energy arguing with the man? Better to save it to escape from him and get home to Thea.
At least she was dressed appropriately for this trip and her escape. Butter soft leather pants covered her legs. A pair of sturdy, fur-lined, and hopefully waterproof, boots encased her feet. Her long-sleeved cotton blouse fit rather than draping her upper body like a shroud. A warm, hip-length brown suede jacket completed her wardrobe.
She sat atop one of the beasts Dolan had procured for them. Quinar, he called the creatures. With their massive heads and long, thick, brownish-black fur, they looked like a nightmare crossing of a Clydesdale horse and an American Bison with a touch of camel. Still, the beasts had gentle, intelligent eyes and seemed placid enough for her limited riding skills. Already her thighs protested the width of the beast's broad back. She could only imagine how sore she'd be after several hours of riding. Shifting to ease the growing strain, she groaned at the pull she felt. The saddle creaked.
Strapped behind her saddle were the supplies they'd need as they headed into the mountains---tent, blankets, food, etc. Because of his heavier weight, Shadow's mount carried only him.
Dolan sat on the porch of the farmhouse, his swollen ankle bandaged and propped on a stool. His ankle was sprained badly enough that trekking into the mountains anytime soon was impossible, but his injury was not permanent. Somehow Shadow had managed to arrange a small accident, without casting any suspicion on himself.
Shadow confused her. Why did he keep his word about Dolan and his small family? If Shadow was the slaver he claimed to be, why not kill Dolan and Thom and steal the children to sell into slavery?
At first Thom wanted to accompany Shadow and her into the mountains. Dale wasn't sure what argument Shadow had used, but eventually Thom reluctantly agreed to remain on the farm. To them, Shadow presented a calm, kind facade. In just a few days they seemed to trust him without question.
Thom stood next to Shadow, talking intensely, but Dale couldn't hear what she was saying. Amme and Mozin sat on the floor next to their father's chair, their eyes wide and serious.
Shadow walked up the broad steps toward Dolan. Thom followed.
Dolan managed a weak smile. "May the Eternal One protect and guide your steps."
"More like the devil," Dale muttered. Shadow's dark gaze flickered to her. She ducked her head. No use antagonizing the man---yet.
"You have my promise, if your mate and son are alive I will find and return them to you."
Dale found herself beguiled by the heartfelt sincerity of Shadow's vow. Despite what she knew about him, she wanted to believe what he said. "Yeah, right."
Shadow turned toward her. "Have you something to add?" Her blood chilled as his hand stroked the hilt of his sword suggestively.
The image of bloody heads rolling down the porch steps flashed through Dale's mind. Would Shadow actually follow through on his threat if she spoke out against him? Could she risk their lives on her gut feeling that he wouldn't? She shook her head.
Both Dolan and Thom looked confused by Shadow's harsh tone. Frightened, Amme scurried into the house. Mozin stood and put his hand on his father's shoulder. Of Dolan's family, only the lad remained suspicious. Smart kid.
"I would not have you trade your life or that of your woman's for my Saree and son, but I would know their fate. If they live, I have funds to purchase their freedom." Dolan held out a heavy leather pouch that sang with the clink of coin.
"I have no need of your coin," Shadow protested.
Awkwardly, Dolan rose and pressed the bag into Shadow's hands. "You must take it. Without my family, coin means nothing. Take it. Use it. I can replace it, but I cannot replace my Saree and the little one." His voice grew gruff with emotion as he sat.
Shadow tucked the pouch inside the new cloak he wore and started to leave.
Thom stepped forward. "Take these also." She held up two long daggers, one a deep ruby red, the other the palest pink. She handed the red one to Shadow.
Shadow smiled as he accepted her gift. "Thank you, Thom." He studied the carefully crafted knife and nodded. "Very fine work." It too disappeared inside his flowing cloak.
Thom's pale cheeks turned pink with the simple compliment. She moved down the steps and gave Dale the pink one along with a leather sheath to strap to her waist. Dale ignored Shadow's frown as she took the blade.
"Thank you, Thom. I'll cherish it."
"Use it to kill the sons of she-hounds who stole Dolan's heart." Unshed tears glistened in Thom's eyes. Part of her heart was missing as well. She looked at Shadow and said, "Teach her to wield my blade well. Though her wrestling skills are adequate, her small size makes her vulnerable."
Shadow's lack of reply spoke volumes. Dale studied the blade rather than meet his knowing gaze.
How this world with its lack of metal and use of crystal would fascinate Thea's clever, scientific mind. The thought of Thea, alone and ill, frightened by her mother's disappearance made Dale's eyes burn. As much as she missed her daughter, her first priority had to be getting home. She couldn't allow fear and worry to distract her. To stem her tears, she concentrated on Thom's blade.
A sculptor herself, Dale recognized the artistry in the shimmering crystal blade. The heft and weight of the dagger fit her grip to perfection. Exquisite cravings of a mountain valley circled the hilt and trailed down the center of the blade. She turned the dagger to study them closer and accidentally brushed the razor sharp edge against her finger. A small bead of blood welled at the slight touch. She quickly sheathed the deadly blade and sucked her injured fingertip.
It still amazed her that this world had no metal. Instead they forged their hard crystal into the items they needed. Both Dolan and Thom were skilled crystal smiths. After having used Shadow's sword to hack through trees and brush, Dale didn't doubt that their crystal was a fine substitute for steel. And it was a heck of a lot prettier.
Shadow strode off the porch and vaulted onto his quinar's back. "We must go now."
Dolan placed his right fist against his chest and called, "Live hard. Die well, Shadow."
Shadow raised his right fist and answered, "Live well. Die hard, friend."
The words sent a shiver down Dale's spine.
"Come." Shadow grabbed her quinar's reins and kicked his animal into a jarring gait. Her quinar followed, jolting into motion.
To keep from landing in the dirt, Dale gripped the saddle horn in front of her.
Ava swooped down. Perched backwards on Shadow's shoulder, beady eyes focused on Dale, the bird bobbed her shiny black head. "Come. Come," she cawed.
Dale stuck her tongue out at the irritating creature.
From listening to Shadow and Dolan's conversations, she knew they'd have to pass by the spinmaster's cave before they headed deeper into the mountains. Each minute of the last few days seemed like a lifetime away from her daughter. No matter what Shadow threatened, she intended to search for her necklace. Once she found it, she'd take her first opportunity to leave him in the dust.
She had to get home before Thea's time ran out.
Raf tensed. He could feel Dale's gaze shooting daggers at his back. Perhaps, considering her unpredictability, it was not wise to have her behind him. Though the rising sun warmed the air, Raf did not shed his cloak. If Dale decided to throw the real thing, the thick cloth would provide a layer of protection. Despite her calm features anger and hurt brewed in her expressive eyes, and Thom's blade was sharp. He had better relieve her of the dagger soon, but not until they were out of sight of the farmhouse. No sense rousing Dolan or Thom's curiosity.
Dale's easy acceptance of her fate at his hands stirred Raf's suspicion. Questions and doubts chased through his mind as they rode. Wouldn't an innocent fight harder against the thought of being enslaved? Was she in league with Devros? If not, why did she speak his name when she lay ill? Or did she submit to his demands to guarantee safety for Dolan and his family? The threats he used against them were just another layer of grime on his already black ka.
Midway up the trail to the spinner cave, and long out of sight of the farm, Raf stopped his quinar. Dale's quinar bumped to a halt behind him. Without turning, he said, "If you throw your dagger, be sure the strike is a fatal one. Merely wound me and anger will make me dangerous."
He heard Dale's sharp inhale and the snick of crystal sliding against hardened leather.
"I had no intention of stabbing you in the back."
He turned. The red flags of color on her cheeks betrayed her guilty thoughts. "Perhaps not, but a wise man takes no chances. Give me the knife." He held out his hand.
"Like hell I will!" She yanked her quinar's reins from his grasp and glared at him. "I might need it to protect myself from some wild animal."
Raf had little doubt to which animal she referred. He hid his grin and repeated his command. "Give me the knife. A slave does not need to protect herself. Her master sees to that chore."
"I'm not your slave, and you sure as hell aren't my damned master." She spat the words at him.
"In the bathing hut you accepted your fate with more grace."
The color drained from her face. Rage turned her blue eyes a stormy gray. Why did he taunt her? To see if she would protest and prove herself innocent? What proof beyond her true enslavement at Devros' hands could he accept?
Her tense pose and the way she worried her quinar's reins warned him anger might make her bolt. "I would not recommend you try to run from me here. Quinar are sure-footed beasts, but one misstep along this trail and you will tumble to a most unpleasant death." He pointed to the steep rocky incline that lined the path. Melting snow made the trail slick. His quinar shifted and dislodged a few rocks. The sound of their descent echoed loud and long, emphasizing his words. "The mountains hold other dangers as well."
"I made it down this blasted mountain without your help. What makes you think I can't make it back up the same way? When I'm ready to leave, I'll be sure to let you know." She kicked her quinar. The beast gave a grunt and lurched forward, pushing past Raf's mount.
He watched her go, and then chuckled silently. He had not disarmed her. Better he follow.
A short while later they reached the small plateau outside the spinner cave. Puddles of icy water and patches of tiny blue flowers spotted the rocky ground, now bare of its snow cover.
Before he could stop her, Dale slid off her quinar. For a moment, she wavered as if in pain. Wincing with each step, she hobbled toward the cave entrance, then stopped and turned toward him.
"Exactly where outside the cave did you find me?"
"What?"
She shoved her fists against her hips and glared up at him. "You're neither deaf nor stupid. I need to know where I was when you found me so I can search the area for my necklace."
"We do not have time for this. I wish to make the first pass before dark."
"Tough. I'm not leaving here without my necklace. So the sooner you start talking, the sooner we can move on."
How easy it would be to scoop her up in front of him and continue. But something in her eyes, a silent plea rather than a strident demand, stopped him. A short stop would not delay them greatly. Both she and the beasts needed a rest.
He pointed to the spot where he had first seen her. The sight was etched in his memory, her body lying pale and motionless against the blue-white snow. A beautiful, lifeless sculpture. Quite a contrast to the warm, vibrant woman who now crouched determinedly over the rock-strewn ground.
She glanced up at him. "Well, it'll go a lot quicker if you get down and help me."
Unbowed by his claim of her person she issued imperious commands. He hid his amusement and dismounted. "For what do we search?"
"A chunk of milky white rock, about so big," she circled her thumb and forefinger, "on a gold chain."
Raf went still. His hand slipped into his pocket. She looked for the milk crystal he had found. "What value does this necklace hold?"
"Only a few hundred dollars. But it was my sister's and I want it back. Maybe my wedding ring is around here somewhere too."
"You had nothing on your person when I found you," he reminded her. Except the milk crystal lying beneath you.
A hint of color touched her cheeks, but she refused to respond.
His mind full of questions, he moved across the plateau, pretending to help her search.
What did the stone really mean to her? Slavers often carried objects, jewelry or crystal cravings, to identify themselves to each other. Maybe without her talisman Devros would not acknowledge her.
A memory flickered in the back of his mind. He reached for it, but like the timid little rodent, the tita, it shied away from him. As a hunter and warrior, he had learned that to capture elusive prey you must lure it to you rather than pursue it. With patience and time the memory would return. Patience he could muster. But did he have time?
When the mountain passes opened, Devros would move the slaves he had captured to the auction blocks and their fates would be sealed. Before that happened, Raf intended to reach him and put an end to his evil trade.
Hours later, long shadows cast the plateau into growing gloom. The wind shifted and the pungent smell of spinners spilled out of the cave.
He strode to where Dale poked determinedly among the rock crevices. "It is time to leave."
Unshed tears darkened her eyes as she looked up at him. "It's not here, is it?"
Where his threats and commands had left her untouched, failure to find her talisman bowed her shoulders in defeat.
"No. Come." He held out his hand. Small and dirty, her fingers curled trustingly around his. Warmth and guilt shot through him. Where was her fear and hatred for the slaver he claimed to be? Did she see beyond his facade? Or did something more sinister drive her?
The urge to give her the crystal hidden in his pocket made him clutch it tightly. Until he was sure of her identity he would hold onto it.
"Perhaps Treman or Faxan found your necklace."
"Who?" A spark of hope lit up her eyes. She scrambled to her feet.
"My traveling companions."
"Do you think so? Can you find them? What are we waiting for?"
Pulling him along, she dashed toward the patiently waiting quinar. Only her slight limp told Raf how much this day's activities had cost her.
"Give me a leg up here and let's get going."
He boosted her into the saddle and mounted his own quinar. He braced himself as Ava took her usual perch on his shoulder. The avari's weight was not slight. Her sharp talons pierced the thick cloak to prick his skin. Cooing with affection, she brushed her wicked curved beak against his cheek, but Raf was never sure what to expect from the temperamental bird.
As they rode, Dale ignored the growing ache in her back, legs and shoulders. Somewhere ahead of them was her ticket home to Thea. She didn't want to waste a minute of the waning daylight.
Shadow's bird stroked its head against his face and stared at her.
Dale glared back. "Why does that stupid bird hate me?"
"Avaries are extremely intelligent. Ava more so than most. They are also fiercely protective and jealous of their companions. She sees you as a rival for my affection."
"Well, tell her she doesn't have a thing to worry about. You're all hers. And while you're at it, tell her to stop staring at me."
"Ava. Hunt. Follow." Shadow lifted his arm. With a shrill cry, the bird spread its wings and shot into the sky.
Dale had to admit the creature was grace in motion. Its sleek black feathers gleamed with blue highlights from the setting sun reflecting off the mountain. Once airborne, its gray-blue underside rendered it nearly invisible from below.
"Ava's female?"
"Yes. Female avaries will bond only to human males. Avari males bond only to human females."
"Must be difficult for them to reproduce," Dale muttered.
Shadow's laugh twisted something deep inside her. How could he be what he claimed? Her dad, an Irish cop from the mean streets of Chicago, had taught her to trust her gut feelings about a person's character. And her gut told her this man was no slaver.
She'd watched him with Dolan and his family. Shadow had treated Thom with respect, talked to young Mozin as if he were a man grown and dangled little Amme on his knee after dinner. If he saw people as commodities to be bought and sold, why not take advantage of their growing trust? But if he wasn't a slaver, why had he insisted on dragging her into the mountains with him? The man had a secret. One she was determined to discover and use to her advantage to get home.
The air grew cold as the sun set in a blaze of purples, pinks and blues. Body aching, feet and fingers numb, Dale huddled into her jacket. She buried her face into the soft fur collar and blew warm air to defrost her icy nose. "When are we going to stop? I'm tired, cold and hungry."
Stony silence met her question.
"That's it. I've had it." She yanked on her quinar's mane. The animal jolted to a stop until Shadow's hold on its reins tugged it forward. "Stop!" she yelled.
Shadow stopped so suddenly Dale's quinar nearly ran up the back of his mount. She cringed as he whirled around to face her.
"You complain like a child. But we will camp here. See to the quinar. Unpack the supplies and start a fire. I will return shortly." With a grace that made Dale unreasonably angry he slid off his quinar and walked away into the growing dusk.
They'd stopped on a large plateau. Sheltered from the mountain winds by the peaks surrounding it, grass grew here amidst the tumble of enormous boulders and stunted trees. Just ahead, the trail Shadow had followed led into a gorge between two towering peaks. The trail twisted so Dale couldn't see where it ended. The air tasted thin and cold.
Dale's legs wobbled as she crawled down off her quinar. The beast heaved a sigh, but otherwise stood still. "Do this. Do that. Who does he think he is?" she muttered and sat on a boulder. "I should just sit here and wait until he gets back. I'm tired. I hurt. I'm cold. And I'm hungry. He never even stopped for lunch." Hunger spurred her into action. Why should she wait for him?
No stranger to the outdoors, she went through the familiar motions of setting up a campsite. From the time Thea was born, she, Thea and Steven had spent most of their free time camping.
Memories of lying next to Steven beside a blazing campfire, while Thea slept nearby, of making love under an open sky filled with stars, brought a bittersweet lump to her throat. They'd had so little time together.
Was her time with Thea doomed to be short as well?
She swallowed heavily and pushed aside the memories. The time to grieve for Steven was long past. And she wasn't going to give up her fight to save Thea.
After Steven's death, she and Thea continued to camp. The forests around her Illinois home might be flatter than Shadow's mountain, but the basics were the same. She unsaddled and tied the animals in a grassy area, then quickly pitched the tent. In minutes she'd gathered kindling and firewood, built a stone pit and coaxed a fire into being with the strange looking match-like sticks she found in with the supplies.
She ate a couple of slices of toasted bread spread with some kind of thick meat paste, then pulled a blanket around her and sat by the fire.
Dusk gave way to darkness lit by the glow of the moon. She looked up at the alien object lighting the night sky. Twice as large as Earth's moon, this moon was as yellow as a child's drawing of the sun and seemed to have a pale red shadow hovering behind and beside it. Goose bumps broke out on her arms at this further evidence that she was no longer on Earth.
Was Cathy somewhere on this strange world, staring at the same moon? How had she felt when she first realized she was no longer home?
Thoughts of Cathy and the familiar scent of wood smoke brought Thea to the forefront of her mind. Was Thea looking up at Earth's moon and crying for her mother?
Tears threatened to undo Dale. She scrubbed at her eyes.
To survive, to find her way in this strange world, she had to be strong. She had to stop thinking about what might be happening to Thea. Worry, fear and grief would slow her down, make her careless. Crying wouldn't get her home. Only Shadow could help her do that. Where was he?
Minutes stretched into hours. As the fire burned low, the moon began its descent toward the horizon. For a moment before it disappeared, the red shadow moon slipped free and blazed in the night sky. Dale blinked and they were both gone, leaving her to wonder if she'd imagined it or if it was some sort of optical illusion brought on by TUDS---Temporary Universe Displacement Syndrome.
Her warm breath frosting the air, Dale paced the campsite. She stopped and stared out into the darkness. Where was Shadow? Had he deserted her? Worry niggled at her mind.
What about the animals? He wouldn't leave them behind. Had something happened to him? What dangers lurked out there?
"Damn you, Shadow. I didn't save your worthless hide so you could go off and get yourself killed." Her shout filled the quiet night.
That was a dumb move, she thought. Now whatever might be out there knows exactly where I am. She stepped out of the firelight and stared into the gloom.
Just beyond the glow of the fire something moved. A branch snapped. She pulled her knife and poised to defend herself.
"I am pleased that you care."
Hands pressed to her pounding chest, she whirled around to face Shadow.
He stood there calmly, a dark shadow against an even blacker background. Head tucked beneath her wing, Ava perched on his shoulder. Slung over his other shoulder was the carcass of a small, hoofed animal.
Relief turned her tone strident. "Where have you been?"
He moved into the glow of the fire. "To check out the pass and collect Ava's kill." The carcass slid to the ground. "I told you I would return. You should not have worried."
"Worried? I wasn't worried."
His eyebrow quirked upward. "No?"
"No, not about you anyway. The devil takes care of his own. But what about me? I don't know what roams these mountains. Anything could have happened to me while you were out gallivanting."
"Once you started the fire you were in no danger. Shardak and big cats give wide berth to fire. After Ava made her kill, I sent her to keep watch over you. If there had been any threat, she would have alerted me."
"Yeah, I'm sure." What in the heck was a shardak? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. She sat down near the fire and changed the subject. "Is the pass open?"
"Yes, but a storm is brewing. We must move quickly or get caught in it. Late storms are dangerous, the snow wet and heavy. Once it falls, it will block the pass for at least another tenday. If we leave at first light, we may beat the weather through the pass." As he spoke he used the knife Thom had given him to skin the carcass. The blade glinted in the firelight. Soon the meat hung on a spit. The smell of roasting meat made Dale's mouth water anew. Ava roused, her head popping from beneath her wing.
"Did you see any sign of your friends?"
"They are not my friends. But, no, there was no trace of them on the pass." His denial of Treman's and Faxan's friendship stirred Dale's curiosity. Apparently, he didn't hold the two men in high regard. How could she use that information to her advantage?
"Then how can you be sure they came this way?"
Shadow tore off a piece of meat and fed it to Ava. "To reach the slaver encampment they must go this way. This is the closest pass. The other pass is thirty leagues to the east. That pass lies in Arete and is patrolled by the Aretian guard. No slaver would dare trespass there."
Shadow's tone confused Dale. He sounded proud of the Aretian guard prowess. Shouldn't their skill at repelling slavers frustrate and enrage him?
"If they didn't use the pass, then where did they go?" She had to catch up with them and get her necklace back.
"I said I found no sign of them in the pass, not that they did not travel this way. Dolan told me when he followed the slavers they were mere hours ahead of him. But when he got to the pass, it was closed and the slavers were gone. Others have reported similar occurrences since the slavers started their raids last annum. I believe they must know of another route through the mountain."
"A secret passageway?"
"Perhaps. The Azul mountain range is riddled with caves and tunnels."
"You're a slaver. How come you don't know about this passageway?" She held her breath. His answer might reveal the secret she sensed he was hiding.
Shadow's eyes became shuttered. He wiped his hands over his trousers and stood. "Sleep now. First light comes soon."
Suddenly apprehensive, Dale glanced at the tiny tent then at Shadow. Unless they slept wrapped in each other's arms there wasn't room for both of them. The thought evoked tantalizing images of their naked bodies twined together. Long forgotten warmth curled low in her belly. No man since Steven had stirred her this way.
Shadow's next words left her feeling cold and abandoned.
"I will rest near the fire."
Since his sensual assault on her in the bathhouse, he hadn't made any moves against her, which was at odds with his claim that he was a slaver and she was his property. Did he find her unappealing?
Aside from being unreasonable and demanding, a common trait in men in general, these last few days he'd treated her with kindness and respect. Most of the women she knew would kill for a man who showed them as much consideration as he'd shown her.
As Dale crawled into the tent she found herself hoping his restraint was because he wasn't really a slaver and wasn't due to a lack of interest.
Thea gripped the remaining shards of her Aunt Cathy's necklace. A week ago she'd stood helpless and watched as her mother vanished in a flash of lightning. Now she was nearly ready to go after her.
Though everyone was being kind, she found no comfort in their words. No one believed what she saw. They figured she was traumatized and imagining things. They discounted the evidence---her mom's clothing left behind on the rock, and the fact that Aunt Cathy had disappeared the same way. Did they think her mom had decided to go skinny-dipping during a raging November thunderstorm? Adults confused Thea.
Once again Thea checked her preparations. The metal chain her mother had made for the shard she wore had been left behind, so the milky white crystal Thea wore hung on a braid of her own hair. The soft wool of her shirt and pants tickled her skin. Her simple leather sandals felt hard and uncomfortable. She could only hope that the natural animal fibers would follow her wherever she was going. As an extra precaution, she'd ground up a small amount of the crystal, mixed it in water and rinsed her clothing in it. In the sun the tiny particles of crystal made her clothing glitter with a thousand pinpoints of light. Crystal chips decorated the straps of her sandals.
Though she didn't know if her medications would make the transfer she put them in her pocket. She'd spent the morning at the clinic in dialysis. With luck she could survive a week without another treatment.
She scratched her arms to ease the persistent itch her kidney disease caused and looked around her studio. A few months after Aunt Cathy's disappearance, Thea and her mom had moved into the house. Aunt Cathy's murals still covered the walls, but now instead of an artist's drawing board and stacks of canvas, the room held a small scientific laboratory. Where Thea's mother and aunt were magicians with metal and paint, Thea made magic with science. Blessed with an above average intellect and a photographic memory, she found chemical formulas, mathematical equations and machinery endlessly fascinating. The chemical smells of her lab blended with the remembered scents of Aunt Cathy's turpentine and oils.
Because she was small, blond and young, as well as ill, people usually underestimated her abilities. It annoyed her that because of her fragile health people tended to treat her as if her mind was somehow damaged as well her body. At fourteen, Thea understood more than people gave her credit for. Even her mom didn't realize how much more. Until her illness forced her to stop she'd excelled in the martial arts and was still a straight A honors student. She surprised people in more ways than one.
She stared out the studio's large windows. Late November sun glinted off the steel-gray surface of the river and leafless trees cast skeleton like shadows on the dormant ground. Thea had hoped for an electrical storm, but clear skies were predicted for the next few days. Should she wait? She'd done the calculations and run the experiments, but plan B was still risky.
There was no hard scientific evidence to support her belief that her mom, Aunt Cathy, and her mysterious male visitor had left this world to enter her aunt's imaginary one. But Thea knew many discoveries owed more to intuitive hunches and gut feeling than to recordable facts.
"Thea? Are you up there?" Concern rang in Scott's voice.
Thea remained quiet.
After the way she'd lost control with the police who'd come in response to her 911 call, Scott's interference was the only reason she hadn't been locked in a padded room. Once he took her home, she'd calmed down, but the authorities and Scott were keeping close watch on what they called her fragile mental state. If he saw how she was dressed, he'd probably ship her off to a head shrink and she'd lose her chance.
A narrow sliver of crystal warmed in her hand.
"Thea! Answer me." His footsteps sounded on the stairs.
It was now or never. Soon her health would fail to the point where she wouldn't be able to make the attempt. Even if she didn't desperately need a kidney transplant from her mother to live, Thea would go after her anyway.
She focused her gaze on the mural, a rural area just beyond the castle. Taking a step, she hesitated. Something drew her eyes to the far upper left corner of the mural, to the misty vague image of blue mountains and the obscure smudge at their base that represented a village. Logic suggested she aim for a solid destination, but her instinct pulled her in another direction.
She extended her arm and shoved the point of the crystal deep into an electrical outlet.
Hot and icy, energy surged through her. Time froze. She went rigid in anticipation of pain. Instead, a multitude of colors, tiny fairy lights danced over and around her. The sound of music, pure and sweet, ran like liquid silver through her veins. Her vision blurred, then cleared to sparkling clarity. Fear faded, replaced by satisfied awe.
Her lab was gone. Instead she stood in a field alongside a narrow dirt road. Tender green shoots covered the dark rich ground. She inhaled. The air smelled of damp earth and green growing things, of spring and new beginnings. Her body tingled as if she'd just received a jolt of static electricity.
A cool breeze stirred her hair. Thea shivered and hugged herself. The feel of wool beneath her fingers made her laugh. Her clothing had survived the transfer. She felt in her pocket and her heart sank. Her pills had not transferred. Nor had the hard candies she sucked constantly to help relieve her chronic thirst. Her resolve stiffened. This meant she'd have to move quickly and find her mom before her body started to fail her will.
To her right, like great slabs of sparkling blue ice, a mountain range rose against an even bluer sky. In the other direction lay a village. She could hear the distant murmur of voices and the rattle of wagons. Either her theory about what had happened to her mom and aunt was correct or she was crazy. Or dead. But until she had evidence either way, she'd accept what her senses told her to be true. She was in another reality.
Like a metal to a powerful magnet she felt the crystal around her neck and the one in her hand pulling her northward. She looked longingly at the quaint village, but didn't argue with her instinct. She turned away from the village and started walking north along the road. Her mother was out there somewhere. "I'm coming, Mom."
Raf woke with a start. In his hand the milk crystal grew warm and vibrated. For several heartbeats his body tingled and his thoughts were not his own. He looked out of another's eyes, first upon an artist's rendition of the Azul Mountains, then at the real thing.
"Mom," sounding oddly childish, the strange word slipped through his lips.
From inside the tent, Dale murmured, "What, sweetie?"
What evil magic was this? He shook off the dream vision and jerked his hand away from the moon-cursed stone. Akester, royal zard to the king of Mardelan, claimed to use special crystals to communicate with other worlds. What possible connection could this woman have with the holy man?
Always the skeptic, Raf discounted his experiences with his friend, Ash four annum ago. He shoved aside his memory of the woman Cathy disappearing in a flash of lightning. In his opinion, zards were at best deluded masters of sleight of hand, who used their talent to lead people to live better lives. At worse, they were charlatans who took advantage of gullible people to line their own pockets. He was unsure into which category Akester fit. He refused to believe what he could not see, hear, taste, smell or touch.
A warrior who doubted his senses did not live long. A dream was just a dream. A crystal was just a crystal. To believe otherwise led to madness.
The first streaks of dawn lit the sky as Raf stirred the embers of the fire to life and put on a pot of gana to heat. When he started cutting up the remainder of the aruka, Ava flew down from her perch on top of the tent. He grunted slightly as she landed heavily on his shoulder.
"Hungry?" he asked the bird.
She bobbed her head in response. He fed her pieces of the greasy meat.
"Aren't you afraid she'll mistake one of your fingers for breakfast?" Yawning her question, Dale emerged from the tent. Tousled from sleep, her hair framed her face like a pale yellow cloud. She raised her arms over her head. Her shirt stretched tight across her chest, outlining her full breasts. A band of creamy white skin peeked between her shirt and trousers.
Swallowing the growing moisture in his mouth, Raf turned his gaze toward the fire. "Unlike people, avaries never bite the hand that feeds them."
Dale plopped down cross-legged across the fire from him. "Any of that meat left? It smells heavenly. I'm famished. Must be the fresh mountain air and exercise. Thea and I always eat like pigs when we camp." Her voice wobbled on Thea's name. Not waiting for approval, she reached over and carved off a hunk of meat with her knife.
Her feathers ruffled, Ava squawked in protest.
"Oh, hush, bird brain. There's enough to share." Dale tore into the succulent meat with an unladylike gusto. Grease made her lips glisten enticingly. "Yummy. What kind of animal is this?"
"An aruka, a small, hoofed animal, plentiful in these mountains. It was Ava's kill. Courtesy dictates you ask for her permission to eat. Last eve I asked for both of us."
Hand frozen halfway to her mouth, she looked at him. "Ask a pet for permission to eat? You're kidding, right?"
"Ava is not a pet. She is a companion. A partner. A friend. I do not own her. She stays at my side because there is a bond between us. Your actions and attitude toward her are lacking in respect. You will apologize."
Slowly, Dale put down the meat and wiped her hands on the mossy ground. She pinned Raf with a hard stare. "And if I refuse?"
Good question. Could he force this woman to bend to his will without breaking her? The more he considered it, he realized she had not accompanied him into the mountains because of his veiled threats against Dolan, but to follow some plan of her own. Still, he could not let her challenge go unanswered.
"Shall I let Ava teach you respect?"
Ava threw up her head and spread her wings, an expanse wider than the length of his arm. Her talons dug painfully into his shoulder.
Determination flared in Dale's eyes. She pulled her knife. "I don't want to have to hurt your pe ... friend, but I'll defend myself."
Fool! Raf chided himself. Even a timid tita mouse would fight when cornered. And Dale was far from timid. A warrior by nature, she would answer any challenge. Though Ava was a skilled huntress, capable of protecting herself from creatures larger and more dangerous than Dale, he could not risk her being injured. She was too important. He refused to consider that he backed down out of fear that Dale might be hurt by the bird.
"I would not want Ava to mar your beauty. A scarred woman does not fetch much at auction." His taunting words tasted foul. With gentle strokes, he tried to soothe Ava's agitation. She folded her wings, but shifted away from his touch to show him her displeasure.
Dale's snort of disbelief did not bode well for their future relationship. What more must he do to convince her he was a slaver? It never paid to show weakness to your enemy.
Round one to her, Dale thought. To hide her growing grin, she ducked her head. Best not to tempt his decision. Why did he want her to believe he was a slaver, when his actions contradicted his claims?
Wise enough to remain quiet, she slid her knife into its sheath and picked up the meat, but not before asking, "Ava, may I?"
As if the bird understood, she bobbed her head, and then launched herself from Shadow's shoulder. Though annoying, Ava commanded Dale's grudging respect. Beautiful, smart and loyal, she was the perfect companion for a man like Shadow.
"Break camp. I will saddle the quinar. We leave soon." He gulped the rest of his drink, tossed down the empty cup and left.
"Bossy bastard. Do this. Do that. Hasn't the man ever heard of please and thank you?" she grumbled as she moved through the well-known motions of breaking camp. "Thea's rowdy teenage friends have better manners." Her fingers gripped the silky tent fabric. Every minute away from her daughter seemed like an eternity. "Don't worry, Sweetheart. I'll be home soon."
It took them most of the morning to work their way up through the narrow twisting pass. Only yards across at its widest points, truck-sized boulders blocked their line of sight and doubled the distance they needed to travel. The pass rose steeply upward between sheer slabs of blue rock. A trickle of melting snow slicked the rocky ground. The quinar picked their way delicately. Ava glided above them, leading the way.
At the peak, they stopped briefly for a lunch of cold meat and hard bread, washed down with icy water that streamed from a fissure in the mountainside.
Overhead, the sun rose, warming the brisk mountain air, until Dale shed her jacket. The thin air provided little protection from the sun's harsh rays as they again moved downward. Her cheeks and nose began to burn. She looked around. Thea would love this surrealistic, beautiful blue and white landscape. How she missed her daughter.
If she couldn't locate her crystal, how could she get home?
Shadow held up his hand. "Halt. Wait here."
Dale's quinar jolted to a stop, jarring her from her thoughts. "Why are we stopping?"
Shadow didn't answer. Instead he dismounted and crept forward on foot.
Muscles aching from the unaccustomed exercise, her brain fuzzy with strain, she waited and watched. A pain-filled scream shocked her into awareness. All senses suddenly alert, she tensed.
The scent of wood smoke and burnt meat drifted on a crisp mountain breeze. Coarse laughter and muffled conversation came from a short distance ahead. Another scream tore through Dale. Some poor creature caught in a trap? An enraged roar vibrated through the pass.
How could Shadow expect her just to sit and wait? She slid off her quinar and followed him to where he crouched behind a boulder. A few yards away the pass opened into a valley of uncommon beauty. Shimmering blue mountains rose all around, casting a watery aura over the scene. A winding, silver-blue river dissected the lush green grass covering the rolling ground between the peaks. To the left was a stand of what looked like pine trees.
But Dale's gaze locked on the scene of horror just ahead of them.
Five men played a cruel game of torture on two large catlike creatures.
Even from where she crouched, Dale could smell the rancid order of the obviously poorly tanned animal hides the men wore. Long, stringy hair straggled about their dirty leering faces. Even without seeing their current actions, Dale would have sensed the void in their souls. They reeked of evil. More beast-like than the creatures they tortured, these men took pleasure in inflicting pain.
Dale could see that the two cats weren't really cats, but rather fur-covered bipeds. Except for the fur, the claws and their feline teeth, they were remarkably human in appearance
The larger of the two animals, a huge black cat-man with hate-filled, green eyes, was trussed in an unnatural position, its front legs behind its back, its hind legs pulled up to meet them. A savage snarl revealed its long gleaming canines. One man stood watch over it, but kept a respectful distance.
Three men surrounded a smaller white cat which they'd staked spread-eagle to the ground. Its pain-glazed blue eyes pleaded wildly for help.
A fifth man stood to one side. He dabbed a dirty cloth at deep bloody cuts on his face. His trousers gaped open at his waist, revealing a shriveled pink penis.
Blood and dirt streaked the sleek white fur between the cat's legs.
Dale cringed when she realized what these men had been doing.
"Dirty stinking beast!" the man spat. "I'll skin you alive, you she-cat and throw your still breathing carcass to the hounds! Rip them out! All of them!"
One of the men stepped hard on the cat's tied down paw, forcing it to extend its claws. Then he bent down and used a plier-like tool to yank out the claw. The animal screamed. The other cat roared, its body struggling uselessly against its bonds.
Dale's stomach lurched. She gripped Shadow's arm. Restrained anger vibrated beneath her fingers. "We've got to help those animals."
"The Shakar are not animals. They are intelligent creatures."
"Whatever they are, we've got to do something."
"We will do nothing. I will handle this. Stay here."
Stay? Didn't the man know any other words? She followed on foot as Shadow mounted his quinar and moved to the entrance of the pass.
For one brief moment, Dale felt like Alice In Wonderland. Then the white cat-person screamed again and the illusion shattered. Though the Red Queen had threatened to lop off Alice's head, no blood was spilled in that story.
She pulled her knife and prepared for action. Things happened so quickly she never had a chance to assist.
With a blood curdling battle cry, Shadow launched his quinar into the valley. Swinging his red crystal sword in one hand and his new dagger in the other, he controlled his charging mount with just his knees.
For a split second the men froze, unable to comprehend the avenging fury descending on them. Then they scattered.
Shadow swung his sword. A man fell. Eyes wide with surprise, his severed head rolled across the ground and came to rest at Dale's feet.
Hysterical laughter bubbled in Dale's throat. Shadow as the Red Queen.
Another man stumbled to a halt. His hands scrabbled uselessly at the dagger buried deep in his back. He fell forward dead.
Screams echoed through the once peaceful valley. Like a shadow of death, Shadow struck without mercy or warning. Swift and sure, his blows found their mark. Though their crime was heinous, did these men deserve a death penalty? Dale wasn't sure, but she could summon no pity for them.
"Stop him, you fools! He's only one man!" the scratched man yelled.
The man guarding the black cat creature turned and fled. Shadow's quinar ran him down. The sword pierced the man's body and lifted him off the ground. His legs continued to pump. He shrieked as the blade protruded from his chest. Then Shadow was gone, the blade with him. The man crumpled to the ground, his life's blood flowing from his body like a crimson river. The acrid smell of blood filled the air.
The fourth man and the scratched man stumbled to their quinar. They galloped away. Shadow followed.
Dale fetched her quinar and moved cautiously toward the two cat creatures. When the quinar balked she left it and went to the side of the white Shakar. The creature cringed when Dale lifted her knife.
"Lie still. I'm here to help you. I'm just going to cut you free."
"Please, see to my hapal---my brother---first," the Shakar pleaded.
Dale glanced at the great black Shakar lying half dozen yards away. Though he was quiet now, his roars still chilled her blood. The red-hot fury burning in his piercing green eyes made her shake her head. She wasn't that brave or foolish. "You first." She put her blade under the ropes, then hesitated.
Was it smart to release this creature? Despite its human appearance and language, its lips curled back to reveal sharp canines. Dale had seen the deep bone-baring cuts its claws had inflicted on its captor.
Blood seeped from the Shakar's fingertips. Three of those claws had been ripped out.
Dale could only imagine the pain. Her gaze moved over the Shakar's body. Its torso was covered with short soft fur and was obviously female. Blood streaked her inner thighs. This evidence decided Dale's course of action. Whatever the Shakar's outward appearance, this was a woman who'd suffered a terrible invasion of her person. Without further hesitation, Dale sliced through the ropes.
She grabbed the pack from the back of her quinar then hurried back to the Shakar's side. The Shakar was struggling to stand, but her legs refused to support her. She tumbled into Dale's arms.
Dale eased her back to the ground, tucked a blanket around her now shivering body and another beneath her head.
"Easy now. Drink this."
The Shakar gulped at the canteen of water Dale held to her lips. "Thank you. Please help him," she croaked.
"Soon," Dale hedged. "Can you sit? There that's better. I'm Dale. What's your name?" She spoke soothingly as she cleaned and bandaged the Shakar's hand, and then gently washed the blood from her body.
Like an injured kitten, the Shakar offered no protest.
"I am T'ala. T'Mal is my hapal, brother. You have our gratitude for your help. Our lives are yours." She touched her uninjured hand to her forehead then to Dale's.
"Speak for yourself, hapala," T'Mal growled. "I offer nothing to these humans."
"T'Mal. This woman and her man saved our lives. Show them respect."
"Release me, human," T'Mal demanded.
"Cut him free. I promise he'll not harm you," T'ala said.
Dale shook her head and eased herself from T'ala's side. "Are you strong enough to ride? You can take your captors' quinar and go home." With Shadow gone, could she escape? If she left him, could she locate the men who had her crystal? Or would she fall prey to men like the ones who lay dead around her? Even though Shadow claimed he was a slaver, Dale still felt safer in his company than on her own. He knew these mountains. She needed him to guide her.
"Because of humans, we no longer have a home." T'Mal managed to pull himself onto his side. His eyes glared hatred at her.
"Two nights ago, these men and others stole into our compound," T'ala said. "They poisoned the stream with a drug to render us unconscious. Our father and mother, along with others were struck down and skinned while they yet lived."
Dale gagged as she followed T'ala's gaze to a furry bundle lying near the campsite.
T'ala's voice was low and even, but Dale felt the pain she held deep inside. "I'm so sorry."
"Keep your pity," T'Mal said. "I will have revenge. Tell this human no more, T'ala." Pain flooded his eyes.
"I must speak the horror or else it will eat me away inside, hapal. Please understand," T'ala begged.
Slowly, reluctantly, T'Mal nodded. Hate faded from his eyes, replaced by a heart-wrenching sorrow. He rolled so his back faced them.
Tears burned the back of Dale's eyes. No one should have to suffer such horrors.
"T'Mal was out hunting, so he was spared. T'Mal's mate, T'Sela, their kits and I were taken captive. When T'Mal returned he discovered the carnage."
The image of what he must have seen made Dale swallow heavily.
"He followed the trail until the raiders split up," T'ala's voice quavered then firmed. "When T'Mal tracked and attempted to rescue us, he was overpowered by their number and captured."
"Do not make excuses for me, hapala. I was careless in my attack. I underestimated humans. I will not make that mistake again." He pinned Dale with a hostile stare. "Will you release me, human?"
"Do I have your word you won't take your revenge out on me or Shadow?" Was she crazy? How could she even consider releasing this man? He could easily rip her apart.
T'Mal looked around the campsite. Three men lay dead. A severed head rested mere feet from him. Flies, drawn by the smell of blood, buzzed in the quiet.
"Three lives for two." He dipped his head. "I'll not harm you or your man. Now, release me, woman."
At least she'd graduated from human to woman. Dale clutched her dagger and walked over to T'Mal's side. Even trussed for slaughter and his dark fur matted with blood, he radiated power.
A bird shrieked as Dale leaned forward. She glanced up. Ava circled in the sky above them. Could Raf be far behind? Should she wait?
"I have your word?"
"Yes," T'Mal growled his answer through gritted teeth.
First, she sliced the bonds holding his legs. He groaned. Anger flashed in his eyes as he lifted his wrists toward her.
As she cut the ropes, wings spread and talons extended, Ava dived at T'Mal's head. In a blur of motion, T'Mal whipped his arm out. His claws caught Ava's wing and flung her aside. The bird tumbled to the ground and laid still, a bundle of bloody feathers.
"No!" Dale sprang to the bird's side. She gently gathered the bird into her arms. Ava struggled weakly, and then went limp. "What have you done?"
T'Mal sat rubbing his arms. "Saved you from having your eyes scratched from your head."
Reluctantly, Raf turned his quinar back toward the raiders' campsite. The leader, the man with the cuts on his face, had escaped.
Raf had taken too long to run down and capture the other man who lay bound and gagged across the front of his saddle. Now, his quinar was winded from carrying a double load. To capture him, Raf had struck down the man's quinar. The man would pay for that death as well as his other crimes. But first he would tell Raf all he knew.
Raf doubted these were Devros' men. Devros steered clear of the Shakar. They made terrible slaves. Beautiful and deadly, they were a breed apart, preferring death to captivity. If only he had been as strong.
Raf had seen the bundle of furs at the campsite and the female staked out for rape. The men he killed had died too easily.
If they weren't Devros's men, he would not be pleased to learn there were other outlaws operating in the Azul Mountains. He considered these mountains his own. Perhaps Raf could use his captive as a bargaining chip. The man's fate at Devros' hands would be just punishment for his crimes.
If they were Devros' men, there could be trouble. Raf didn't think the leader had seen his face, but he could not be certain. Before he and Dale walked into Devros' lair, he would have to track down the man and learn the truth. His captive would soon provide him with the information he needed to do so.
Evening came early as the sun dipped below the mountain peaks. A blue-gray gloom blanketed the isolated valley. He had been gone too long. What trouble had Dale managed to get into?
The raiders at the campsite were dead, but what if the Shakar had gotten free? Or the leader had doubled back?
In the heat of battle, he had forgotten that Dale considered herself his prisoner. What if she took it into her head to escape? The mountains held a myriad of dangers for the unprepared.
He spurred his tired quinar to a quicker pace. His captive groaned.
The stink of death hovered in the air as Raf approached the quiet campsite. He halted his quinar behind a stand of trees. After securing his captive, he crept toward the three figures huddled around a small campfire.
The white Shakar's fur gleamed golden in the flickering firelight. She leaned against the dark Shakar, whose black fur rendered him nearly invisible. Only the strange green glow of his eyes revealed his location. Dale sat apart, her shoulders bent. Raf waited.
"Come out of the darkness, human," the male Shakar growled. "You cannot sneak up on a Shakar. I hear your breathing and smell your human stink."
Dale's head shot up and Raf straightened and stepped into the light. "Pleasant greeting for the man who saved your sorry hide."
"Forgive my hapal. You have our thanks. I am T'ala. This ungrateful one is my brother, T'Mal," the female Shakar said.
Dale stood and rushed toward him. Without thinking he held out his arm and she moved into his embrace. Her body trembled as she pressed against him.
"They think you're my mate," she whispered.
He bent his head to hers and whispered back, "Why did you not tell them the truth? The male would undoubtedly attempt to kill me. If he succeeded, you would be free." To those watching it would appear they were having a sweet reunion.
"Maybe, but I don't want you dead---just yet." She turned in his arms so they faced the now standing Shakar together.
"As my hapala says, you have our thanks, human." His words were given grudgingly. He peered into the darkness beyond Raf. "What of the two others? Did they escape you?"
Raf bristled at the disdain in the Shakar's voice. "The leader vanished into the mountains, but the other lies behind those trees."
"He lives?"
"For now."
"Give him to me."
"No. I have need of him."
The Shakar's fur bristled. His eyes gleamed. "I demand..."
Raf pushed Dale behind him. She sputtered a protest, but didn't resist. His hand slid to the hilt of his sword and he braced for an attack.
"T'Mal." The female's quiet command eased the growing tension like a cool salve soothes the pain of a burn. "Come sit," she urged them both. "We will talk."
Raf hesitated until Dale grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. He sat next to her. The warmth of the fire couldn't touch the cold he felt inside. Though deserved, killing took a toll upon him. His ka ached with the weight of the evil he had seen this day.
Dale's fingers curled around his. Warmth flooded through him, easing the chill that had invaded his ka. He squeezed gently.
From a bundle next to the fire Ava squawked. Her head poked up, two dark beady eyes regarded him accusingly.
"Where have you been?" he asked. The bird had deserted him while he chased the leader. "I could have used your help."
"Uh, Shadow," Dale interrupted. "Ava had a little accident. She attacked T'Mal. Protecting himself, he injured her."
"How badly is she hurt?" Beyond his concern for Ava, Raf needed the bird if his plan was to succeed. He could not retreat now that he was so close.
"Your Avari will live," T'ala said. "T'Mal did not mean to harm your pet."
"My claws tore her wing," T'Mal explained, but did not apologize for his actions.
"Her wing will heal," T'ala hurried to add. "But she should not attempt to fly for several tenday. If she does, the damage may ground her for life."
Raf reached out to stroke Ava's head. The bird pecked his hand and hopped into Dale's lap. A white strip of cloth bound the bird's wing tightly to her body. With a hostile look at Raf, she snuggled against Dale and tucked her head beneath her uninjured wing.
T'Mal's laugh rang out. "It seems you are to take the blame, human."
Dale stroked the bird's ruffled feathers, looked at Raf and shrugged, but her lips quirked upward.
"An unusual turn of events." He accepted the avari's desertion with concealed ill grace. If Ava could not or would not fly for him, his plans were doomed.
"I suggest we all get some rest," Dale said. "In the morning we can figure out what to do next."
"I will take first watch," Raf said.
"We will watch together, human. You may have saved our lives, but I do not trust you," T'Mal answered.
"Nor I you," Raf answered.
T'ala cast an odd look at Dale and both women started to laugh. Their laughter faded as they curled together next to the fire, Ava between them.
In minutes Raf could tell they were asleep.
T'Mal looked at him over the women, his expression echoed Raf's own confusion. What did the women find humorous about keeping watch? The raider could still return.
"I will fetch the captive to where we can keep watch over him," T'Mal said.
"He is..."
"I have no need of directions, human. His stink is strong in my nose."
The Shakar disappeared into the dark. Raf considered following him, but did not want to leave the women alone and unprotected for even a moment. He would have to trust the Shakar not to kill the man. A muffled scream sounded. Raf tensed. Then came another. Closer. Raf let himself relax. The Shakar would take his revenge, but the man would not die tonight.
Dale woke with a start, the sound of a gurgling scream in her ears. Her eyes flew open as she jolted upward. Ava let out a squawk.
She sat up and looked around. Sunlight bathed the valley. The dead men were gone, along with the gruesome bundle of furs. In a shaded glen of trees the ground was freshly turned and mounded. Five quinar grazed peacefully on the lush grass alongside the river.
Next to her, T'ala stirred. "What is the matter, tui, friend?"
"Someone screamed."
T'ala sat up. "T'Mal and your man question the raider. Shall we go watch?"
Dale shuddered at the thought and shook her head.
"You think me cruel and heartless to enjoy the screams of my tormentor?"
"No, of course not. You're entitled. I just don't think I can watch." When another agonized scream echoed through the valley, Dale was glad her stomach was empty. The man deserved whatever pain he suffered, but it upset her to know Shadow was the one inflicting that pain.
T'ala touched her shoulder. "You have a gentle, innocent heart. Mine was once so. I will ask T'Mal to muffle the man's cries so they will not disturb you." She stood and headed toward the trees where the screams came from.
Dale feared the sound of screaming would haunt her forever. This was a violent, brutal world. She longed to go home.
But was Earth any better? Both her young husband and father had died at the hands of a man who beat his wife and children. Police officers, they had been on a domestic disturbance call. When they announced their presence, the man had pulled a gun and shot her father. He died instantly. Steven's return fire killed the man. While kneeling at his father-in-law's side, he didn't see the man's wife pick up her husband's gun. Steven lived long enough to pump two more bullets into the woman.
Only Thea and Cathy's constant care had kept Dale from withering away in grief.
Time and Thea helped Dale regain her will to live and her zest for life, but neither had given her the courage to risk loving a man again.
Now Thea's life depended on her returning home.
What seemed like hours later, Shadow, T'Mal and T'ala returned to the campsite. Dale looked over to where they'd left the raider tied. Though bruised and bloody, the man appeared alive and intact. She refused to further consider his fate.
The three seated themselves around the fire.
"The children must be rescued," T'ala said.
"The other village must be warned first." Torn between two duties, T'Mal's voice was rough with emotion.
T'ala turned pleading eyes to Dale. "Will you help?"
"I-I can't. I have to get home as quickly as possible. My child's life depends on me. I'm sorry."
"We don't have time to track the raiders," Shadow added.
"Please," T'ala said.
"Do not beg these humans for help. Why should they care for the Shakar or our children?" T'Mal's green eyes blazed with frustrated rage.
Faced with the immediate peril to the Shakar and their children, Dale's reasons felt inadequate. Could she live with herself if she did nothing to help these people? "We could warn the village." How long could it take to ride in and out of a Shakar village and warn them?
Shadow shot her a hard look but didn't object to her offer.
"Tell us where it is. Shadow and I will take the message to them."
"Why should we trust you?" T'Mal growled his question.
"Your offer is generous, but the village is well-hidden and guarded." With her explanation, T'ala attempted to ease the growing tension between Shadow and T'Mal. "You would not be able to locate it. Nor would you be allowed to enter."
Shadow leaned forward and stirred the embers to life. "The raiders had no problem."
"As your captive told us, we were betrayed by a human we mistakenly trusted." T'Mal glared at Shadow.
"We found an injured man and nursed him to health. When he left the village, he sold information to the raiders," T'ala explained.
"Did he know the location of the other village?" Dale asked.
"No. But the raiders took T'Mal's mate. She will be..." T'ala's voice broke. She took a deep breath before continuing. "T'Sela is strong, but eventually she will either reveal what she knows or die."
"We do not wish human help." T'Mal stood and stalked toward the river.
Instead of relief at his refusal of help Dale felt determined.
T'ala's eyes filled with tears as she watched him go. She looked back at Dale and Shadow. "Forgive him, for he cannot forgive himself. It was he who brought the human into our village. I will go to him. He is right. The village must be warned. Then we can gather men to go in search of the children."
When T'ala left, Dale faced Shadow. "By then it'll be too late. The raiders will be long gone, and who knows what horrible things they will do to those children. We have to do something. Now."
"What would you have us do?"
"We can go after them ourselves."
"You forget that I am a slaver. Why should I trouble myself with the fate of Shakar children?" He refused to lift his head and meet her gaze, staring into the flames instead.
Dale grabbed his arm. "Damn you! Look at me!"
His head shot up, but Dale couldn't read the expression on his face. Hooded eyes regarded her without emotion.
"You're no more a slaver than I am." The words burst from her lips with conviction. How could she have ever believed this man a slaver, when his every action said otherwise?
He lifted a dark brow. A corner of his lips twitched. "Am I not?"
"Of course not. Do you think I'm stupid? A slaver wouldn't concern himself with the safety of a family he'd never met. A slaver wouldn't rush to the defense of two strangers or chase down their captors." She refrained from mentioning his restraint with her. No sense giving him ideas. "Actions speak louder than words."
"Do they?" He dropped the stick he'd been using to poke the fire.
Dale didn't like the glint in Shadow's dark eyes or the air of suppressed power coiling around him. She started to rise. "This conversation has gotten way off track. We need to get moving. While we sit here arguing, the raiders are getting farther and farther away." And the longer it will be before I can get home.
Shadow's hand snaked out. His fingers fastened around her upper arm.
"Let me go."
"I think not." He tugged her gently but surely toward him.
When she resisted, he gave a sharp jerk and she tumbled into his arms.
She struggled and sputtered a protest, which died as his lips closed over hers. Like an artist he painted her mouth with his tongue. Bold sweeping strokes outlined her lips until she opened them to his gentle invasion. Liquid heat flowed through her. Thoughts of escape and home melted under his assault on her senses.
She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations coursing through her body. Not since Steven's death, so many years ago, had she felt so alive, so free. Her arms twined around Shadow's powerful shoulders, her fingers burrowing into his silken mass of hair. Long suppressed wants and needs erupted inside her. Time-dimmed memories of physical bliss surfaced and demanded satisfaction. She'd forgotten this need to become one with another. Desire exploded inside her.
After long breathless minutes, his mouth started an exploration of her throat. To allow him better access, she threw back her head.
"Steven," she murmured.
Raf tensed. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten who this woman might be---Stefan Devros' woman. Befuddled by her warm sensuality in his arms, he had nearly admitted his true identity, denounced his slaver status and undone moons of hard work.
That he should succumb to a woman's oldest trick angered him. Experience had taught him better. Women were not to be trusted.
Devros' name on her lips while she moaned in Raf's arms shriveled his ardor. He surged to his feet. Unprepared for his sudden move, she slid to the ground with a thud.
"What the hell's the matter with you!" She scrambled to her feet. With her face flushed with unfulfilled passion, her hair mussed, her lips reddened, and her eyes sparkling in anger, she turned on him. "How dare you ... you..."
Words failed her. She stamped her foot and glared at him.
Her frustrated rage soothed his own. He didn't blame her for using whatever methods she needed to gain her ends. He was disgusted with himself for becoming her victim. A wry smile teased his lips.
"Don't you laugh at me."
Before he saw what was coming, she grabbed his arm. Next thing he knew he lay flat on his back gasping for breath.
She leaned over him. "With or without you, I'm going after those children. And then I'm going to find a way to go home to my daughter." She whirled around and stomped toward the quinar.
The sound of T'Mal's laughter rang in the air. A furry hand reached down.
"Your female is a warrior. Do you follow her? Or stop her?" T'Mal asked.
Raf accepted the Shakar's hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. "I fear once she sets her mind only the Eternal One could sway her." She might be a spy for Devros, but in this she was right. No matter the risk to his mission, he could not in good conscience ignore the plight of the Shakar. "Where shall we return your children when we find them?"
T'Mal's grip tightened and his gaze locked with Raf's.
"Trust me, T'Mal. I'll not betray you."
Slowly, reluctantly, T'Mal nodded. He gave Raf directions to the Shakar village. "I take T'ala there first. I will tell them of your quest. Runners will be sent to the other villages. Then I will gather men to track the females taken from my village. May the Eternal One guide our steps."
Raf touched T'Mal's shoulder. "Live hard. Die well, warrior."
T'Mal returned Raf's brief gesture. "Live well. Die hard, friend."
"How sweet. They've kissed and made up."
The rapport between them shattered at the sound of Dale's sarcasm.
She approached with two, saddled quinar. "I'm leaving. Are you coming?"
She struggled to hold the animals as they shied nervously away from the scent of the Shakar.
Raf grabbed the reins of his quinar and swung himself astride. He looked down at T'Mal. "I gift you with my captive." Under Raf's persuasion the man had revealed all he knew. He and his comrades were not Devros' men. They acted alone. Raf had no further need of the man.
"You have my thanks and my gratitude, Shadow Warrior. May the moons always light your way." T'Mal's smile held little humor as he started toward where the captive lay bound and helpless.
Dale's face paled, but she offered no protest. She mounted her quinar and stared in the opposite direction.
Dale hunched her shoulders against the cold drizzle that plastered her hair to her head and trickled down her back. Numb fingers gripped reins she could no longer feel. An icy wind churned the low, charcoal gray clouds darkening the late afternoon sky. Wet and hungry, Dale let her quinar follow Shadow's.
He stopped, dismounted and crouched close to the ground.
"Three quinar traveled this way."
Dale blinked to clear away the moisture from her eyelashes. "How can you tell?"
"Their hooves are hard enough to chip the soft shale. See the marks?" He held up a piece of gray rock.
"If you say so. Are we going to stop to eat?"
"No. A storm approaches."
"A storm? What's this then?" She swiped at the rain streaming down her cheeks.
"Does a bit of water douse your zeal? Would you have us abandon this quest?"
His questions made Dale frown. Would he turn back from rescuing the Shakar children? She couldn't allow that.
"Of course not. We gave our word. I'm just hungry." If he could handle the discomfort, so could she. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering, but she couldn't stop her stomach from rumbling.
His grin grated on her frozen nerves.
"Here. Eat this. We must follow their trail before it is obscured."
With ill concealed distaste she accepted the chunk of slightly soggy hard bread he dug from his pack.
Oblivious to the cold and wet, he remounted and they moved on.
Above the tree line where nothing but stunted, prickly bushes grew, she forgot hunger as she gasped for breath in the thinning air. Heads lowered, the quinar plodded along. Hours passed. Without Shadow she would be hopelessly lost. Whatever made her think she could track and rescue two children from their captors? Or find the two men who might or might not have her necklace?
Camping with Thea in the safe, placid parks and forest preserves of Illinois hadn't prepared her for this strange and hostile environment. Though her martial arts training had toned her body, it didn't give her the strength or stamina to deal with the altitude. If she died of exposure here on this blasted planet what would happen to Thea? She bit her lip to keep from crying out in frustration and despair.
A fat white flake landed on her cheek. It clung to her chilled flesh. Another floated past. In minutes they swirled in the air, blocking her vision. Her quinar stumbled to a halt and refused to move.
"Shadow." Her teeth chattered. She couldn't see him.
"Call again. I will come to you."
"I'm here," she screamed. The howling wind whipped away the echo of her words.
Like an ermine fur, snow covered her head and shoulders. She shook with cold. Beneath her jacket, Ava's huddled form provided the only bit of warmth. Blinking against the now stinging pellets of snow she peered into the mesmerizing maelstrom of white.
How easy it would be to close her eyes and surrender to the lethargy stealing over her. Was she doomed to die in this frigid hell? Inside her, panic's wings fluttered to life. Without her, what would happen to Thea? Angry denial lent strength to her voice. "Shadow, where are you?"
"Here."
She gasped as Shadow's arm encircled her waist and pulled her in front of him on his quinar. In a whirl of black, his cape settled over her. Snug between the thick dry material warmed by his body and the heat radiating from him, Dale gave a tired sigh and sagged. Beneath her cheek his heart beat a reassuring cadence.
Like frozen crystal bands, Dale's arms wrapped around Raf. Silently, he cursed himself. Lost in his thoughts he had become oblivious to the changing weather. While his eyes searched the ground for tracks, his mind ran in circles, trying to find a way to keep the search for the Shakar kits and Ava's injury from delaying, perhaps even ending, his mission
Though filled with flaws and risks, his plan was their last hope. All other attempts to find and rout out Devros had met with failure. Informants told Prince Ash that the country of Blagden already massed an invasion force along Dramon's border. They just waited for the slavers to begin their raids and cause chaos before they struck. With Dramon under siege from within, it would fall easily to Blagden's superior force. Once that happened Blagden would feel free to cast its covetous eyes on the tempting prize of Mardelan.
He had a mere two tendays left to locate Devros and lead Dramon's troops to wipe him out. After that it would be too late to halt either the slavers or the invasion. Raf was determined not to fail. Too many lives rested on his success.
Though Dale's inner strength masked the fragility of her slight woman's body, it did not excuse his carelessness in allowing Dale to fall prey to the elements. Until he learned her identity and purpose, he was responsible for her well-being.
Self-recrimination did no good. They needed shelter from the storm. He clutched her tight and scooped up her quinar's reins. With his knees he steered his reluctant mount toward the rock wall of the mountain rising above them. Left to their own devices the quinar would simply fold to the ground, tucking their heads and limbs beneath them to wait out the weather. If he couldn't find a cave quickly, Raf would let them do so. Though not the best solution, covered by his cloak, he and Dale could lie between the beasts to keep from freezing.
Fortune smiled on them. For a brief moment the sheet of snow parted and a dozen arm lengths ahead he caught a glimpse of a dark aperture on the sheer cliff wall. The wind shifted obscuring his view as he headed his quinar toward their salvation. Only when the quinar's head disappeared into the opening did Raf realize that the cave was already occupied.
He pulled the now eager beasts to an abrupt halt. The scent and heat of a scrub wood fire didn't drift far beyond the cave's entrance, but it gave ample evidence that no animal resided there. Slowly he moved his quinar to the side of the entrance. A low warning growl made him pause. He dropped the reins and slid his sword free of its scabbard.
Their senses alert, the quinar shifted nervously. Unable to pinpoint the danger through the roar of the wind, the snow clogging their nostrils and freezing their heavy eyelids shut, they put their trust in the human guiding them.
Raf squinted into the swirling snow. A mere man's length away crouched six Falin, snow cats, their white fur rendering them nearly invisible. A dozen ice blue eyes dared him closer, but they made no move toward him. Frozen blood coated their muzzles and bared teeth. No longer did Raf have to be concerned about the raider who had escaped. That man and two others lay dead, their bodies ripped apart by the Falin.
Holding his sword ready, he urged his quinar into the cave. Whatever threat lay inside he would handle. Burdened by Dale's limp form, he would stand little chance if the cats chose to attack. Quick and strong, snow cats hunted only during storms, hibernating through the warmer months. This late spring storm must have roused them from their rest. And a disturbed snow cat was nothing to trifle with.
The sudden cessation of wind and snow left Raf strangely disoriented. Outside, the world churned white. Inside, it was dark and still. The odor of wood smoke, burning meat and hair hung in the air. Though still cold, the air no longer bit at his flesh.
Dale stirred in his arms.
"Where are we?" Her voice sounded husky.
"In a cave."
She straightened and pulled back from him. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
In the dim light he could see her frown. "It is my fault. You were suffering from the beginning of hypothermia. I did not pay attention to the weather and forgot you do not have my stamina."
Anger sparked in her eyes. Her body went rigid. "I'll have you know I..."
He stopped her words with a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Do not yell. We are not alone here. Listen. Look."
Over the stone muted roar of the storm, he could hear the sharp snap and crackle of a fire. The cave was a bit higher than his head. Several quinar lengths ahead it made a sharp turn. From beyond the turn came the reddish glow of a fire.
A low keening sound raised the quinar's heads. They tried to move backward.
"What is that noise?" Dale asked.
Raf lowered her to the ground. She wavered then found her balance. He dismounted and secured the nervous quinar to an outcrop of rock. "Shall we find out?" Gripping his sword, he crept forward.
Crystal snicked against leather as Dale pulled her knife. The skin between his shoulder blades tingled. He forced his doubts away. She would be foolish to kill him now. She needed him to survive. He refused to consider how right it felt having her at his back. Even if she was innocent of any involvement with Devros, she was still a woman. And women were not to be trusted.
"What are we waiting for?" Her words whispered across his cheek.
Hugging the wall, they moved forward. The glow from the fire grew brighter, illuminating the cavern, a fissure of solid crystal. Yellow flames reflecting off blue crystal gave the cave an eerie greenish hue. Heat washed over them.
At a glance Raf knew this was a natural cave. No man had mined this cave for its valuable crystal.
Like a mournful wind, the keening rose and fell in waves around them. Inhuman in its sound, it scraped Raf's nerves with its soul deep agony.
Dale's fingers closed around his upper arm. Her shudder raced through him.
Abruptly, the keening stopped.
"Do not hesitate, humans. Come join your comrades in death." The voice, harsh and raspy with pain, came from beyond the flickering flames.
"We are not with those who raided your home. We come in peace. We mean you no harm." Raf let the point of his sword dip toward the ground, a gesture of peaceful intent.
"Crat! Humans do nothing but harm." A figure rose behind the fire. A Shakar. Soot and blood obscured the color of the creature's fur. Her eyes reflected the blue-green glow in the cave.
Before he could stop her, Dale darted from behind him. "T'Sela?"
The Shakar paused. "Who are you? T'Sela is dead. She died along with her child. Her body will soon become one with the fire. But first the Falin assisted me in seeing the killers received Shakar justice."
The smell of burning hair stung Raf's nostrils. T'Mal's children had perished, their small bodies consigned by their mother to Eternity in a cleansing flame.
Since the Shakar and Falin shared the same haunts, legend often linked the two. Apparently, this legend had a basis in fact.
"You're not dead," Dale insisted. "Don't give up on life."
T'Sela stepped out from behind the fire.
"Dale. No." Raf reached out to snag Dale's arm as she took a step forward, but she evaded his hand. Quick and deadly, a Shakar could rip a man---or a woman---apart in moments. Raf lifted his sword and swore silently. Dale stood between him and the Shakar.
"What do you know of loss, human?" T'Sela sneered.
"More than I'd like."
Raf barely heard Dale's whisper.
"My child is dead. What shall I live for?" T'Sela demanded.
"What about T'Mal?"
"T'Mal lives?" Hope sparked in the Shakar's eyes.
"Yes, and T'ala. They requested our help in searching for you."
"It matters not." The light in T'Sela's aqua eyes faded. "My honor is gone. My body is broken. I am of no use to T'Mal. My death will serve him better."
"That's utter nonsense, and you know it. If your positions were reversed, would you want T'Mal dead? Is it so easy to find a mate?"
Raf tensed as Dale strode up to the Shakar. If the creature attacked, could he respond in time to save Dale?
"No." T'Sela's shoulders sagged. "No matter what, I would wish T'Mal to live. Part of him is worth a hundred others."
Dale touched T'Sela's arm. "Then give him the same choice. Trust in his love."
How easily she spoke of love and trust. Could a woman of her courage and compassion be an accomplice of a man such as Devros?
Dale caught T'Sela as she crumpled. The Shakar's weight carried them to the cave floor. Harsh sobs racked T'Sela's slender body as she clung to Dale.
Raf sheathed his sword and turned away before he found himself unmanned by a woman's tears.
Should he leave Dale alone with T'Sela?
"Dale. I will see to the quinar. Be cautious."
Arms around the crying Shakar, she looked up with a frown and waved him away.
He found the quinar near the cave's entrance. They'd tucked themselves into tight balls of shaggy fur. Even a Falin's long teeth and claws would have difficulty reaching through their thick pelts. Quinar were gentle beasts, but their size and strength discouraged most predators. Moving quickly and with some effort, he located their reins, secured the beasts and collected their packs.
Outside, the storm still raged over the mountains. A maelstrom of white obscured his vision past a few feet from the cave's entrance. He did not venture farther. He saw no sign of the Falin or their prey.
Assured they were safe, at least for the moment, he hurried back to the fire. Without T'Sela to feed them, the flames had lost their intensity. The fire burned low and steady, spreading comforting warmth through the cave.
Dale met him as he approached. "Shh. She's asleep." She tugged him toward the cave wall opposite where T'Sela lay curled.
Further from the fire the cave air was cool and damp, but Raf didn't object. Ravaged by anger and grief, T'Sela could not be trusted. In the morning, they would take her to the Shakar village. Then he could try and salvage his mission.
Could he yet track his former companions to Devros' stronghold? Or could he somehow force Dale to reveal what she knew? What threat would unlock the secret he knew she kept? Could he bring himself to use force against her?
Like a swarm of angry honey bugs questions without answers distracted him. With sightless eyes he watched as Dale spread out their bedrolls and prepared a simple meal from their supplies.
"Quit looming over me. Sit down and eat something. You're making me nervous." Dale reached up and grabbed Shadow's arm to pull him down next to her. Her tug didn't budge him. He looked down at her, and then he nodded and folded himself onto the bedroll.
A fall of thick black hair hid his expression from her as he stared into the fire. Though silent, his presence made her feel secure.
Her lack of fear of this intimidating warrior surprised her. But sometime during the last few days her fear had evaporated. Though he spoke little and told her even less, his actions revealed his true worth.
She didn't know exactly what he was up to, but despite his claim she no longer believed he was a slaver. The question now was could she trust him to help her? Would he believe that she came from another world or think she was crazy? What choice did she have? Without his help she stood no chance of finding her way home.
Ava squawked and wiggled to get free. Her sharp talons raked Dale's stomach through her shirt.
"Ouch! Hold on, Ava." Dale opened her jacket and released the bird.
The avari stretched her unbound wing and gave a hardy shake. A shower of tiny feathers floated in the air. Then she stalked to the edge of the blanket and proceeded to groom her ruffled feathers until they lay smooth and shiny once again.
Blood seeped from the shallow cuts Ava's talons left on Dale's stomach. She moaned as a throb of pain echoed the ache in her heart.
Shadow turned toward her, his gaze going to the rips in her shirt. "You're hurt."
She clutched her jacket closed.
"Let me see."
"It's nothing. Just a scrape."
His hand closed over hers and gently drew it away. The jacket fell open. She trembled as his fingers worked the fasteners of her shirt and pulled it apart. The material caught on her nipples, hiding them from his view. She had to stop him.
"What do you think you're do..."
Warm and slightly rough, his fingertips grazed around the scratches.
She caught her breath at his delicate touch.
His head dipped close to hers. "These need to be cleaned."
The warmth of his words in her ear sent a shudder through her. Her eyelids fell to half-mast.
He moistened a piece of cloth and gently wiped away the small bit of blood.
She struggled to find her composure, the strength to pull away from the appeal of his touch. "Thank you." Her voice sounded weak and breathless. "I'll be fine."
Thought fled as his palm settled against her side and stroked upward. She arched her back. Her shirt fell aside revealing her breasts. Cool air swirled over her heated flesh. She shivered, and then gasped as Shadow's mouth closed over one tight nipple. Electric heat coursed through her, softening her bones. She gripped his shoulders as he eased her down beneath him.
If this was wrong, then why did it feel so right? From shoulder to knee their bodies fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Her hands slipped inside his shirt to stroke the smooth skin of his back. Long suppressed desire flared to life inside her. Moisture formed between her thighs. She shifted restlessly, needing, wanting, but afraid to ask.
In the dim light of the fading fire, he undressed her, then pulled away to strip off his own clothing. As the cool air touched her nakedness, a brief moment of sanity intruded. What was she doing? This man was still a stranger to her, an unknown quantity in the strange and dangerous world she found herself in. Deep inside she knew that if she gave him her body part of her heart would belong to him as well.
She opened her eyes and her mouth to tell him that they had to stop. And she saw him kneeling above her, silhouetted against the flickering flames, his penis fully erect. Her mouth went dry at the power contained in his warrior body. Passion banished sanity to a dark corner of her mind.
His gaze locked on hers.
"Speak now or you are mine," he rasped.
In answer, she smiled and held out her arms.
The strident cry of a snow cat sent a shiver down Raf's spine. What was he doing? How could he consider making love to this woman with T'Sela just beyond the fire?
His gaze settled on Dale. His doubt was reflected in her eyes, and her arms dropped to her sides. Without a word he grabbed up his clothing and moved toward the opening of the cave.
Cold and aching with unfulfilled need, he crouched in the dark. How had he allowed himself to stray so far from his goal? Lives rested in his hands. He had no time to dally with this woman.
Should he have ignored the plight of the Shakar to pursue a greater good? No. When he'd taken his oath to his friend, Ash, he'd vowed to always protect the innocent, no matter the cost.
But now his obligation to the Shakar was fulfilled. T'Sela was found. He would return her to her people and move on.
And what of Dale? Where did she fit? Was she Devros' partner or his pawn? Or was she another innocent he was bound to protect?
He forced himself to relax. When the storm broke he would need strength to shepherd T'Sela home. He let the roar of the wind lull him into a warrior's sleep, body lax, but poised to respond, senses alert.
"Shadow."
Raf came awake in an instant. Dale stood next to him. Concern etched a frown on her face. "What?"
"T'Sela's gone. I think she slipped out sometime during the night."
"Impossible. She could not have gotten by me or the quinar, they would have sounded an alarm." Raf strode to the cave opening where the quinar still curled in slumber. The storm no longer blew, and an eerie stillness lay over the mountains. Moonlight peeking through a drift of yet dark clouds, glinted silvery blue on the blanket of unbroken white covering the rocky ground.
"Well, she's not in the cave. I've searched." Dale trailed after him.
"Moon fire," Raf cursed as he stomped out of the cave. Snow crunched beneath his feet, but there was no sign of T'Sela's passing. "How long has she been gone?"
"How the hell should I know?" Dale snapped back. "I woke up. She was gone. I looked, then I came and got you." Her tone changed to concern. "Can we find her?"
"If she does not wish to be found, unlikely. These mountains are her home. She'll probably return to her village."
Dale shook her head. "I don't think she will."
Raf moved back into the cave. "Why not? Where else would she go? Surely she knows T'Mal will be waiting for her."
"The raiders killed her children, and they probably raped her. She'll feel she's failed as both a mother and a woman. She might feel unworthy of returning to T'Mal."
"What nonsense! No man worth calling himself such would fault his woman for the actions of others. Logic would tell her this."
The quinar, disturbed by the sound of his raised voice, lurched to their feet.
She moved to soothe the agitated animals. "T'Sela's not thinking logically right now. She's suffered physical and emotional trauma. Rage and grief are what drive her. We have to find her before she gets herself killed."
Raf groaned. Dale was right. He'd given his word to T'Mal, and he could not abandon T'Sela. "At first light we will try to follow her trail."
"But..."
He took Dale's shoulders in his hands and turned her to face him. His breath caught. Like a beacon to lead a lost soul home, longing shone out of her eyes. Memory of her, her body warm and naked beneath his gaze, stole the words from his mouth. Desire surged anew. His head dipped toward hers. "We are alone."
Dale's protest died. Since Steven, no man had touched the lonely heart she kept buried deep inside---until Shadow.
Despite what he claimed to be. Despite his deception. Despite the fact there could be no tomorrow for them, she wanted this man with a hunger she could no longer deny.
Though she knew she was opening herself to future pain, she wanted---needed---a memory of him to carry with her forever.
"You must say the words. I'll not take what is not freely given." His warm breath brushed across her cheek as he leaned closer. "Say the words, sweet gift of the valley dweller, and release me from my misery."
She pressed herself closer, until their bodies touched from chest to knee. With one knee he eased apart her thighs and fitted himself there. Beneath his trousers his arousal rubbed against her, spreading liquid heat through her veins. His fingers tightened over her shoulders. "Say them." The demanding desire darkening his eyes to fathomless pits belied his plea.
"I want you," she whispered.
The touch of her lips turned his triumphant cry into a moan of defeat. He crushed her to him, and then pulled away. His fingers fumbled over the fastenings of her shirt and trousers, while hers quickly worked his free. Clothing fell unheeded to the cave floor, until they stood naked before each other.
Outside, the clouds parted. Moonlight streamed through the opening, bathing him in a blue white glow. For a moment he appeared like one of her metal sculptures, muscle and sinew rippling beneath a smooth, lifeless skin. Then he moved and the similarity ended. Though her work was praised for its lifelike appearance, she'd never been able to capture such vitality and life force in cold hard stone or steel.
Behind them, the flickering fire cast reddish shadows on the cave's walls, giving a promise of warmth. A gust of wind sent a swirl of snow around their bare feet. She shivered.
Shadow scooped her into his arms. The heat of his body against her chilled flesh sent a tremor through her. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and buried her face into the hollow of his neck. His spicy scent stirred her senses. She didn't protest the feel of the cool, rough bedroll beneath her as he laid her down and covered her with his body.
The warmth from the fire couldn't compare to the blaze he set to burning within her.
"Sweet Eternity. You are beautiful." His large hands cupped her face.
"As are you," she whispered.
He chuckled. "Hardly."
Lost in passion's haze, she gazed up at him. His dark hair brushed her cheeks and throat. Desire set her blood to pounding. Eager to learn his secrets, her hands skimmed over his chest and up his arms. His flesh felt like warm, polished marble. She slid her palms down his back.
Her touch gentled as her hands moved over the vicious scars crisscrossing his skin. "Who did this to you? When? Why?"
He rested on his side and took one of her clenched fists in his hands. "It happened a long time ago. The who or why no longer matter."
"I hope you made them pay for what they did to you. No one has the right to cause such pain."
She started to rise, but he placed one hand gently on her shoulder to hold her still.
"Shhh. Be easy, little warrior. The guilty one will face justice. Now, if my scars do not disgust you, we have other matters to attend to."
She sat up and ran her fingertips along the ridge of one long scar. Someday, someway she would avenge this insult to his beautiful body. "These are marks of valor. How could they disgust me?" She brushed her lips along the same path her fingers had taken. He shuddered. The feel of his mouth nuzzling her neck banished further thoughts of vengeance. "Let me make love with you."
"I am yours to command, my lady." He laughed and lay back, allowing her access to him.
He stared at the woman hovering over him. Her quick anger gone and her easy acceptance of his ancient scars touched something deep inside him. No other, besides his friend, Ash had ever seen the marks of his captivity. After one disastrous affair, he made a point of concealing them from the women he bedded. But his desire for Dale had made him careless. When she touched the scars and froze, he thought she would react in horror. Instead, she jumped to his defense. A true Tiguer.
Thoughts of the past dissolved as she stroked his body with her hands and mouth. Small and lithe, she wrapped herself around him in ways he'd never imagined. The rush of her breathing as her warm wet tongue explored his ear pushed him to the edge. But when she closed those talented lips around the center of him he reacted.
He gripped her arms and pulled her beneath him. "Go slowly, sweet Dalthea, or it will end before it begins," he growled.
She laughed, but she didn't protest when he nudged apart her thighs with a knee. With a small smile on her moist lips, she opened to him.
Kneeling between her spread thighs, he stroked one hand down her body from shoulder to hip. Her gaze grew wide and unfocused, her breathing uneven. He leaned forward and captured one puckered nipple with his lips. She let out a startled gasp, her back arching upward. By the moons, how she responded to his slightest touch. Forcing back his own needs, he moved his lips to hers. He stroked the soft skin of her belly. Her moans of delight tasted like nectar on his tongue.
His hands trembled as he tried to go slow. With breathless cries and restless movements she urged him to hurry.
He moved down her body---tasting, touching, stroking---until he reached the nest of fine blonde curls that barely hid her woman's secrets. Her musky scent tantalized him. Parting the delicate folds of her female flesh with gentle fingers, he bent and tasted the hot tart honey that flowed between her thighs. With the first stroke of his tongue over her sensitive nub, she came apart in his hands. He lifted his head to watch in awe as her body convulsed with passion's glory reached.
"Love me---now!" She tugged on his hair, urging him over her.
A fierce little warrior, she fought for what she wanted, twining her legs around his hips to pull him closer, digging her nails into his flesh in her fervor. He gritted his teeth to keep from thrusting mindlessly into her as his arousal pressed against her moist opening.
"Now. Please." Caught in the throes of her climax, she rocked her hips insistently against his.
"With pleasure, Tiguer." Surprised by her tightness and unwilling to hurt with his haste, he eased himself into her inch by torturous inch.
She had no such qualms, urging him deeper with her constant writhing. Despite the cool cave air, sweat beaded his brow as he sought to control both his own desire and hers.
Then they were joined, their bodies locked together in an age-old dance. His lips closed over hers, his tongue plunging into the depths of her mouth in rhythm with the movement of his hips.
Bodies slick with sweat, they strained together to reach the zenith. Their breathing grew harsh in the cave's silence.
Beneath him, Dale went rigid as she climaxed. Only then did Raf plunge into her without hesitation or restraint. She answered his thrusts with her hips, driving him toward completion.
With a hoarse shout he poured his seed into her. Drained of will and energy he collapsed at her side. She muttered an unintelligible protest as his body slipped off of hers. Tucking her against him, he gathered her close.
She shivered and snuggled against him as the chilled cave air touched her. He tugged part of the bedroll over them. Like a tired little shecal kit, she gave a sleepy sigh. Her breath blew cool over his damp skin.
No woman could fake the response she had given him. Nor had he ever experienced such a joining. Only in his dreams had he thought two people could reach the heights they had climbed together. A fierce sense of possession flooded him.
"Stefan."
Her single murmured word jolted Raf from his haze of sensual satisfaction.
She was his. Whatever her past, he laid claim to her future. Devros would never have her.
Warm sunshine beat down on Thea's head as she navigated the steep mountain trail. Winter here was giving way to spring. The crisp mountain air felt good against her itchy, heated skin. The bread and meat pie she'd borrowed from the windowsill of a farmhouse she'd passed three days ago was gone. But constant nausea banished whatever hunger she might have felt. Though she desperately wanted to drink her fill from the cool mountain streams she passed, she didn't dare do more than take small sips and moisten her parched lips. Without her daily medications her kidneys were shutting down. Soon her body's own toxins would kill her. Her time was running out.
At night she built small fires and huddled close as the day's warmth gave way to the last vestiges of winter cold. Tired, worried and ill she trekked upward.
Something compelled her up the mountainside. The crystal hanging around her neck tingled against her skin, an insistent vibration. She wasn't sure why, but she knew her mother had traveled this way. She could feel her presence.
Though her logical mind denied the possibility of ESP or telepathy, Thea and her mother had always shared a close relationship. They often sensed when the other was near or needed them.
A soft mewling, like that of a frightened kitten, caught Thea's attention. She stopped and cocked her head to listen. She noticed that the almost constant chirp of birds and insects had ceased. A sense of unease crept over her. Whatever was out there had obviously alarmed the local wildlife into silence.
She scanned the brush and rock-strewn slopes bordering the almost hidden trail she traversed. An army could be concealed there and she would never see it. How could she find the source of that faint cry of distress?
Caution and common sense urged her to move on, to ignore the noise. She didn't have the time or resources to rescue lost or injured animals. And what if this was a predator's lure? Who knew what creatures inhabited this world. But she couldn't resist the need in that heart-wrenching sound.
"Where are you?" She spoke in a low, reassuring tone.
A human-sounding groan came in rely.
That was no animal.
She stepped off the path, but couldn't locate the source of the groan. "Say something. I want to help, but I need to find you."
"I am h-here. H-help ... please."
The answer came from about twenty feet away, behind a large boulder. Thea approached cautiously. Her mouth dropped open in surprise at the creature crouched in the rock's shadow. A pleasing mix of feline and human, blue-black fur covered a body that mimicked the human form.
Keeping a good distance away, she asked, "What are you?"
"I am Shakar." The creature's voice broke, and then firmed.
"Are you hurt?"
"No. Yes." The creature shook its head. "I am in Tr-transition."
"Transition? I don't understand. Do you need help?"
"Y-yes." The creature's dark eyes lost their unfocused look and locked onto her. It raised its head and sniffed. "You are f-female? Then I must be male. Determination is made."
Thea took a nervous step back as the creature's voice deepened and gained strength. A musky scent surrounded her, seeping into her pores. Every instinct screamed at her to flee, but her limbs felt leaden. Her head swam in confusion as emotions and memories not her own flooded through her. Fear and anger. Pain and loss. Love and joy. What was happening to her?
"Come c-closer." The creature's voice stroked her shattered nerves, beguiled her.
Her senses expanded until she could hear the rocks eroding and the spring leaves growing. From one breath to the next, she became one with the world around her and with the creature.
Self-preservation dissolved as awareness blossomed. He would not hurt her. He was T'Nar. Her hapal. Her brother. She rushed into his embrace. Tears of joy dampened her cheeks. Like the Phoenix, she was reborn.
"I thought you lost to me." T'Nar held her tight. "I felt you die."
Reason reasserted itself. Thea pulled back and looked at the creature. His fur felt soft and comforting beneath her fingers.
"I don't know who you think I am. My name's Thea," she said. "What's happened to me? I feel strange." She scooted out of T'Nar's embrace.
"Be easy, little human." Laughter, relief and gratitude lurked in the creature's dark eyes. With each passing moment, his attitude and appearance became more male. "I have given you the thoughts, memories and emotions of my hapala. Sleep now and remember."
Though she fought against the urge, her eyes drifted shut and she sagged. Her last waking memory was of T'Nar's arms closing gently around her.
And she dreamed another life. She saw T'Nar and herself as kits wrestling playfully on a sandy beach, their fur damp and dirty. Curled together at their parents' feet. Learning to hunt, the smell and taste of prey strong in their nostrils and mouths. Like the bright sparks of fireflies on a warm summer evening, she also experienced the other's emotions.
When she woke she still wasn't sure exactly what had taken place, but she accepted, even welcomed the knowledge that inside her she now held the memories and emotions of another life---T'Nar's sister. The feeling, though at first disconcerting, felt comfortable. The merging did not diminish or overwhelm her.
"Do you now understand?" T'Nar asked.
"I think so. You and your sister were two bodies with one consciousness. Now you are two, both in body and mind."
"That is a simple way of putting it. Transition and Determination is the Shakar passage into adulthood. My hapala and I had just begun Transition when the slavers raided our village. When her body died at their hands I was forced to hold her within myself. If you had not happened along I would have perished. By accepting them you saved both her essence and my life. One body cannot contain two."
"Then how can I?"
A grin on his thin lips, T'Nar shrugged. "The human mind is much less complicated than that of the Shakar. You use so little of your brain, there was plenty of room for my hapala's memories."
Thea shot to her feet. "Why you arrogant beast! Humans are every bit as smart as you ... you, whatever you are."
"Shakar. We are Shakar. Despite your outer appearance and your previous life, part of you is now Shakar. You are my hapala, my sister, as I am your hapal, your brother. Our lives are forever bound together."
"Yeah, well maybe. What exactly do you mean by bound together?" She backed away. Her dream was fading, the memories and emotions of T'Nar's hapala becoming faint and unreal in her mind.
"We are now two so we may live our lives apart. But there will always be a connection between us. If you are injured or in need I will know and will come to you. Because your body is not Shakar, I am unsure of how strong your awareness of me will be. Young Shakar kits are warned of the dangers of being apart during Transition and Determination. We are told stories of kits who have been forced to give keeping of their hapal or hapala into the bodies of animals. I have never seen such, but I would guess such a bonding to be uncomfortable and dangerous."
"I understand Transition, but what is Determination?"
T'Nar looked uncomfortable. "Shakar biology is different from human. Our births are always dual, but neither kit has gender at birth."
"You mean baby Shakar are sexless?"
"Yes and no. We are both yet neither. It isn't until we reach the edge of adulthood that we choose. As we go through Transition and divide our mind from one into two we must make a determination as to which gender we will be. One always becomes female, the other male. Two halves of the whole."
"So because I'm female you had to become male? Would that have been your choice?"
"Perhaps. But the question is moot. I could not change your gender, so I could not chose for myself."
"You said you'd know if I was injured. Does that mean you can read my mind?" The thought made Thea nervous. Did he know how ill she was? Strange, since she'd bonded with T'Nar she felt better.
"Not exactly. I can sense the echoes of my hapala's emotions buried beneath yours, but I have a limited ability to feel what you feel. I know you are ill and that you worry for someone you love. Because your body is not Shakar the feelings are vague. Your thoughts are yours. I cannot read them. As you cannot read mine. But my hapala's remembered consciousness should alert you if I am injured or in need. Whether you respond will be your choice."
Thea didn't answer T'Nar's unasked question. She wasn't sure how she felt about being linked to this creature. She'd answer the question if and when it arose. Right now she had to find her mother.
"Okay, now that that's cleared up. What happens next?"
"I must find my father and tell him---tell him what has occurred." His voice sounded suddenly young and unsure.
Thea realized that despite his size and previous air of command, T'Nar was actually much younger than her. He'd lost his mother and sibling as well as others in an act of violence. Even without the strange connection they'd forged, she couldn't abandon him.
She held out her hand. "We'll travel together."
Relief lightened the grief and guilt in his gaze as he wrapped his fingers around hers. A bolt of warmth shot up her arm and settled around her heart. For good or bad her life was now and forever bound to T'Nar's.
"Gather our supplies. I will return shortly."
Mouth open, Dale watched Shadow stride out of the cave and disappear into the sun's glare. "There he goes again, giving orders," she grumbled to the quinar as she packed up the bedrolls and supplies. "What does he think I am? His slave?"
She rocked back onto her heels and laughed. According to his claims, his slave was exactly what he considered her. Then why didn't she believe it?
The night before she'd made love with him. Though she'd only been with one other man her entire life and that was over eight years ago, she wasn't sex starved. This man's strength, honor and compassion were what drew her to him. His spectacular body was merely a bonus.
Her hands stilled as memories of his body poised above hers drifted through her mind. Steely muscles flowed beneath his surprisingly soft skin. The desire burning in his eyes had sparked an answering blaze in her. Her eyes closed as she recalled the sensations of his hot mouth suckling on her chilled nipples, his hands stroking over her. When she remembered the feeling of fulfillment as his body slid into hers, a shudder ran through her.
Since waking alone, Dale hadn't exchanged more than two words with Shadow. His scowl discouraged her from attempting to discuss what had occurred between them. She owed him an explanation and an apology, but how could she explain why she'd whispered Steven's name when she was unsure herself?
What did Shadow think of her?
Her eyes snapped open in protest. Why should his opinion matter? She didn't have time for this. As delightful as the physical union between them was, she couldn't risk losing her heart to this man. They came from different worlds. She didn't belong in his, and he would never fit into hers. She had to get home to Thea.
Shaking off the sexual languor, she picked up the bedroll and started toward the quinar. Something clinked against the rock floor of the cave. She looked down and froze. A milky white stone glinted in the light streaming in from outside---the stone from her medallion.
The bedroll slipped from her arms. Numb with shock, she bent and picked up the stone. It felt warm against her icy fingers, but its heat couldn't ease the chill growing in her heart.
He'd lied to her, had kept her medallion hidden, even knowing how desperate she was to find it. Why? Doubts and fears rushed back. Was she wrong about Shadow? Could he be a slaver? Her heart wanted to deny what the evidence told her.
"Why are you not ready? I found T'Sela's tracks in the snow further up the trail. She's running with the snow cats, and they're moving fast. We'll have to hurry to catch up. There'll be another storm before nightfall." Shadow strode forward and picked up the fallen bedroll.
Angry words hovered on Dale's lips. She wanted to rage and scream at him. How could he betray her? Everything she'd begun to believe about the man crumbled around her.
When she didn't respond, he looked at her in confusion. "Are you unwell?"
Dale looked up. The concern in his eyes nearly undid her resolve. "No. I'm fine. Let's get going." This was not the time or place to confront him. She couldn't risk him taking the medallion she clutched in her fist away from her. Warmth throbbed up her arm. First chance she got, she was going home.
Rested and watered, the quinar moved at a brisk pace. Jo, as she'd started calling her quinar, followed Shadow's beast, which she'd named Diablo, because of the stubby horns on its head.
A ball of gold in a blue sky, the sun sparkled off melting snow as winter's last hurrah gave way to spring's promise. Dale shed her jacket and raised her face to the warm rays. All around mini waterfalls cascaded over the crystal rock rising alongside the trail. Like the sound of wind chimes, the water sang as it moved over the rock. The soothing sound didn't ease her growing anger. Water rushed down the path they traveled. Only the quinar's grooved hooves and weight kept them from sliding on the slippery rock.
At midday the trail opened onto a wide barren plateau where the storm hadn't reached. No snow covered the hard sheets of windblown rock or the boulders strewn about like blocks discarded by some giant child.
Shadow pulled Diablo to a halt and dismounted. Head down he walked a dozen yards then returned. "The trail is gone."
"What now?" Dale asked. Though she wanted to know that T'Sela was safe, now that she had the means, the urge to go home to Thea grew with each passing moment. The medallion's heat and pulse seeped through the layers of cloth surrounding it to scorch her.
"The village T'Mal told us of is just beyond this plateau. We will check if T'Sela is there and relay T'Mal's message."
"And then?"
He ignored her question and lifted her off her quinar. Then he turned and pulled some food out of his pack. "We will eat mid-meal now."
Sitting on Shadow's cloak, which was spread over the bare rock, Dale ate dry bread and hard cheese, washed down by icy melted snow. She didn't taste the meal as her thoughts went from Shadow to T'Sela to Thea in a dizzying blur.
She picked the least painful subject. "Do you think T'Sela's in the village ahead?"
From where he lounged, Shadow rose on his elbow to look at her. "No. She runs with the Falin now. T'Mal would do well to consider her dead. She has gone feral."
"Is there no hope for them?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps if T'Mal is determined enough he can find and reach her. Otherwise she is lost to the Shakar world."
Sunlight and shadow flickered over his face. Light and dark. Like the two halves of the man he was. Which was real? Which false? What had driven him to this life?
Thick and straight, his dark hair fell over his broad shoulders, framing his rugged features. He kept his emotions well hidden behind an impassive mask. But Dale had seen him stripped naked, his mask discarded. Before she left him, she longed for another look into his heart. But how could she feel that way about a man who had betrayed her?
He helped her into Jo's saddle, and then settled Ava on her shoulder. He mounted Diablo and kicked him into a trot. Dale slipped sideways as Jo followed suit. To keep from falling she grabbed the saddle horn. Ava's talons dug into her shoulder. "Damn you, Jo! Can't you wait for my command?"
Jo had to be female. She followed Diablo like a mare in heat.
It took them most of the afternoon to cross the plateau. The sun sank behind the looming mountain peaks as they approached the far cliff wall.
"Wait here," Shadow said as he slipped from Diablo's back.
"As usual," she muttered. During the silent trek, angry questions fermented in her mind. Why had he lied to her? Who was he? What were his plans for her? Why was she yet attracted to him? Now those questions threatened to boil over.
With the setting of the sun, shadows crept over the plateau lending it an eerie moonscape look. The air chilled. Churning black clouds rolled across the clear blue sky. In the distance lightning flashed. Seconds later came the answering rumble of thunder. The smell of ozone scented the wind swirling around her. A storm approached.
Memory told her this was what she needed. Her fingers closed around the medallion. A static charge jolted through her.
She looked at Shadow, who walked along the sheer cliff wall, searching for the hidden passageway T'Mal had revealed. Pain seared her heart. Evidence and facts branded him a liar, guilty of terrible crimes. But her heart told her otherwise. How could she leave without knowing the truth? How could she stay?
A flash of lightning streaked across the now dark sky. Thunder reverberated through her. Jo shifted nervously, trying to edge closer to Diablo. Dale held the beast still. Ava squawked and beat her free wing.
Now! Now! Now! The medallion throbbed insistently in her palm. With each pulse, a painful surge of static energy raced through her, muddling her thoughts.
Again lightning flashed, followed almost instantly by a crack of thunder. Large raindrops splashed against the rock. Jo tugged against Dale's hold.
Dale slid off Jo's back. The ground shook with another roll of thunder as the rain started in earnest. Jo bolted toward Diablo. Ava's bandage slid off and the frantic bird took flight, disappearing into the deluge.
With one last longing look at Shadow, Dale lifted the medallion into the air and headed out onto the flat, windswept plateau. Thunder vibrated through the soles of her feet as the storm intensified. Thick sheets of rain drenched her. Her body tingled, as if she were about to outgrow her skin. Overhead, lightning flared between rolling black clouds and streaked toward her.
Before a brilliant white light engulfed her, Shadow's shout was the last thing she heard.
Thea shifted in discomfort as she trailed behind T'Nar up the steep mountain trail. In the space of a day, the weather had gone from cold to wet to hot. Now the sun beat down relentlessly on her head, but it did little to dry her damp, itchy clothing. She could feel the skin on her nose and cheeks beginning to burn, while the tender flesh of her thighs chafed. Her long hair clung to her head and neck like tangled straw.
T'Nar seemed impervious to the clammy air. His dark fur repelled the rain and now lay sleek and dry.
Thunder rumbled over the mountain peaks looming above them. Lightning streaked from churning cloud to churning cloud. The tiny hairs on her body stood on end. Around her neck the white crystal started to glow. Its heat against her chest made her lift it away from her body.
Unease sent prickles running through her. She stopped. "T'Nar. Stop. Something's wrong."
He turned and shot her an impatient look. "What? If we do not hurry the storm will catch us in the open. I do not wish to be wet again. There is a cave ahead where we can shelter for the night. From there it is but a few hours to a Shakar village."
Her "other" memories were hazy shadows in her mind, but she could recall that T'Nar had always been the adventurous one, while her "other" self was more cautious. He had little patience or fear.
Before she could answer, a bolt of white set the mountain peak ablaze with a blue-white light. Blinded by the glare, Thea stumbled. Thunder rocked the mountain. Clutching the crystal in her fist, she fell to her knees.
"Mom!" For an instant, the crystal she held connected her with her mother. A familiar tingle started in her palm, and then crept up her arm.
Drawn by the crystal's power, flashes of lightning and thunder continued to dance down the mountain toward them. This was her chance. Somehow she knew that bolt of lightning had transported her mother off this planet. But to where? Earth? Somewhere else? She had to follow or risk losing her forever.
She opened her fist to reveal the chunk of crystal, which glowed an eerie red, to the raging elements. With new vision she watched the electrical charge, the energy that would enable her to follow her mother, grow inside the roiling mass of clouds now above them.
"Moon Fire! What are you doing? Get down!"
T'Nar's voice came from a great distance. Ignoring his frantic protest, she clambered to her feet. Like an offering to some pagan god she held up the crystal.
In slow motion the lightning formed---a savage arrow of unbelievable power, aimed at her. Her skin drew taut in anticipation and fear. She trembled. The smell of ozone stung her nose. Sweat rolled between her small breasts and down her spine.
Mesmerized by the awesome beauty, she waited for the bolt to strike and carry her home---to her mother.
T'Nar's warm, furry body slammed into her, throwing her to the ground. The crystal slipped from her hand. The fragile braided hair chain that held it around her neck broke and the crystal flew into the air. In a burst of light and noise the bolt hit the crystal and both were gone. Like in time-lapse photography, the storm clouds evaporated. Late afternoon sun shone down from a crystalline blue sky. Not a shard of crystal remained.
Beneath T'Nar's body, Thea screamed and pounded his shoulders in rage. "Why did you stop me? Now I'll never find her. The crystal is gone. I'm stuck here. I'll die here. Alone."
He accepted her blows in silence, and gathered her to his chest. "Shhh, my hapala. You are not alone. I am with you. My family is now yours."
She struggled against him, against the sense of belonging she felt with this strange creature. But her "other" memories refused to be stilled. They grew and expanded inside her until her sobs softened. Longing for her mother would never end, and as long as she lived, she would not cease to try and find a way back to her. But she also belonged here in this world with T'Nar.
Raf stared in disbelief at the heap of clothing lying on the ground in front of him. What moon cursed magic was this? The sky was now blue and clear, the sun warm on his head. No trace of the black thunderclouds lingered. Nor, besides her clothing, was there a trace of Dale. Like the woman, Cathy, Dale had vanished in a bolt of blue-white light. All that remained was a small shard of the milk crystal she valued so highly. He rubbed his thumb over the newly broken edge.
Was she a seraph? A messenger of the Eternal One sent to test and guide him? Or was she sent from Oblivion to tempt and lead him into destruction? When he'd found her, it was as if she'd fallen out of the sky. Now she'd returned to her own realm without revealing her true purpose.
Perhaps she was neither. Raf found he didn't care where she was from. Whatever blessing or curse she might carry, she was his. He would have her back.
He picked up the stone. Still warm, it seemed to vibrate against his palm. As his fingers closed possessively around the shard, a faint echo of Dale filled his mind. Somehow, someday, he would find her again.
But first he would fulfill his obligation to T'Mal and complete his mission against Devros. Only then would he be free to seek his destiny.
If he survived.
Hard rock pressed against her cheek. The warm sun beat down on her body, and a fine spray of cool water misted over her bare back. She shivered at the contrast.
Disoriented, she sat up and blinked. The world swam slowly into focus. A river flowed past her. The Council River.
She was home!
Over her shoulder Cathy's house---her house---sat on a bluff overlooking the river. In the sunlight, the house's large windows reflected the view of the river.
Dale scrambled to her feet. She was home. Thea was here, waiting for her. Unmindful of her nakedness, she hurried up the rocky dirt path that led to the house. A tattered remnant of yellow police tape made her pause. She touched the tape. What crime had occurred here?
In the seven years since Cathy had disappeared and her house became Dale and Thea's home, Dale had trod this same path a thousand times. Each time she remembered the chilling sight of yellow police tape and the clothing abandoned on this same rock. Though no bodies had ever been found, until Dale had transported off Earth, she'd believed Cathy had met with foul play. Now, she knew Cathy's fate, for all the good it had done her.
The thought of Cathy's clothes lying in a sad heap made her think of her own nakedness. Had her clothes remained behind for Shadow to find? What would he think---feel---at the sight?
She hardened her heart to his possible distress.
She was well rid of him. He'd abducted her. Lied to her. Kept from her the means to return home to Thea for long, lonely, worry-filled days. She owed him nothing.
Nothing, but her life, her conscience reminded her.
Her fingers curled into fists. Sharp edges of the crystal bit into her palm. She loosened her grip and stared at the rock. It appeared decidedly smaller than before. She brushed a ragged edge with her fingertips and bits broke away. With each use the stone grew weaker. Soon it would crumble to dust. Good riddance. She started to throw the crystal into the river then stopped. Cathy was still out there. Maybe after Thea was well again the crystal could help them find and bring her home.
Dale cupped the stone and its crumbs carefully in her palm and made her way toward the house.
The house sat quiet and empty in the afternoon sun. Though the yard was neat and well kept, the house had an abandoned air about it. She tried the front door. It was locked. Limping on her sore bare feet, she moved to the back door. Locked. With her free hand she located the spare key from under one of her sculptures that decorated the small back porch and opened the door.
The house smelled closed and stale, and the odor of old paint and turpentine still lingered from when Cathy had her studio in the house seven years ago. Dust motes floated in the sunbeams streaming in through the large plate glass windows, and a fine layer of dust covered the simple furnishings. The refrigerator door stood open, an indication it had been emptied and turned off.
Dale's heart sank. Thea wasn't here. Then her mind cleared. Of course she wasn't here. Scott wouldn't let her stay alone in the house. He'd take her to his home. Or was she in the hospital?
She calculated the days she'd spent in Shadow's world, but did time flow the same there as here? How long had she been gone? Was she too late?
The thought nearly sent her to her knees. No, she refused to believe it.
After sealing the crystal and crumbs in a zippered plastic bag, she picked up the phone to call Scott, but the line was dead. She'd have to drive over there. She hurried up to her room to dress.
The sight of herself, wild-haired and streaked with dirt, in the bedroom mirror as she started to pull on some clothes made her pause. She couldn't frighten her daughter by appearing like this. She jumped into the shower.
The pipes groaned and the showerhead sputtered for a moment, then spewed a satisfying stream of hot water over Dale's body. Standing beneath the pounding water, she leaned her head against the cool tile and struggled not to let fear overwhelm her. She had to remain strong for Thea.
The stroke of liquid over her breasts and down her belly brought to mind another touch. Her body tingled at the memory of Shadow's hands and mouth following the same trail. How sweetly he'd made love to her, slowly, gently reintroducing her to the passion she'd long denied and thought she'd forgotten.
"No," she groaned. "I won't---I can't---think of him now." She grabbed the soap and tried to scrub away the memories.
Once out of the shower, she rubbed herself dry and moved back into the bedroom. Her reflection in the mirror over the dresser made her stop. Who was that women?
Gone was her casual pixie, tomboyish appearance. The woman she saw looked softer, more feminine, younger, a pagan goddess awaiting the arrival of her lover. Longer than usual, her hair lay over her shoulders in silken ropes. Water darkened the normally straw colored strands to a pale honey color. Her breasts looked firmer, her belly taut and flat. Even the pale blonde nest of hair between her legs seemed darker. Beads of moisture glistened there like amber diamonds.
She shivered and blinked away the disturbing image. One night with a man, no matter how glorious, could not change who she was. Her thoughts had to focus on her daughter and her life here on Earth. Shadow belonged to another world---a beautiful, but primitive, violent world she wanted no part of.
Anxious to cover the physical evidence of Shadow's impact on her life, she grabbed up jeans and a shirt and scrambled into them. Stuffing her feet into tennis shoes, she bent over and hopped toward the bedroom door.
"Stay where you are," Scott yelled from outside the bedroom. "I'm coming in. Don't try anything funny. I'm trained in martial arts, and I've called the police."
Dale choked back her laughter. Scott might be an expert in the martial arts and physically fit, but he was clumsy and the gentlest person she knew. He couldn't even bring himself to swat a fly. Instead he kept a butterfly net to catch and release them.
She started to straighten and answer his belligerent challenge, but before she could, the bedroom door crashed open. She stumbled and landed on her backside.
"Ouch! Blast it all, Scott. Don't you knock?" She rubbed her butt and climbed to her feet.
Scott's tall, lanky frame skidded to a halt just inside the door. His eyes widened in shock, then he rushed forward and crushed her in his embrace. "Dale? Is it you? Thank God! Where have you been? We've been going crazy looking for you. Everyone thinks you're dead."
With each word he squeezed her tighter, pushing her face against his chest until she could barely breathe. Gasping for air, she pried herself free.
"Does Thea think I'm dead?" The thought caused an ache deep in Dale's heart. "Where is she? With Gail? How is she? I can't wait to see her again. I've so much to tell her---and you. You won't believe what happened to me. I think I know what happened to Cathy. She may be alive. But let's go get Thea first, so I don't have to tell the story twice." She grabbed Scott's hand and tugged him toward the door. His sudden silence made her pause. "What's wrong?"
He pulled her down next to him on the edge of the bed, but wouldn't meet her anxious gaze. "I don't know how to tell you this."
Dale's heart started to race in fear. She gripped his arm. "Has something happened to Thea? Where is she? Tell me. Is she ... is she..." Her words caught on a sob. Tears blurred her vision. Thea gone? Pain exploded in her chest as the future stretched out before her, long and empty.
"No, not that, Dale. She's not dead."
"Thank God. Then what?" The relief she felt was short-lived.
"She---she disappeared shortly after you did."
"What? How? Where? Have you notified the police?"
"The police don't have a clue where she is." He lifted her chin with his hand. "But I think you might. Here. I found this the day she vanished. It's addressed to you, but since you were also missing, I read it. It didn't help the police. Maybe you'll understand what she's talking about." He handed her an envelope.
Dale pulled the letter out and started to read.
Dear Mom,
If you're reading this, you've found a way back from where the crystal and lightning took you. And I'm either dead or I've gone where you are.
Everyone here thinks lightning killed you and that I'm crazy. No one believes I saw you vanish. They couldn't answer when I asked where your body went.
After trying in vain to get people to listen to me, I started studying the problem, and I came up with a plan to find you. Since it involved some danger, I told no one.
If I'm not dead, you can follow me back to the other place by going to our secret spot. I've left you instructions.
Love,
Thea
Dale crushed the letter. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Foolish, foolish child.
"I assume you have some idea of what she's talking about," Scott said. "If I wasn't so well liked around town and the sheriff wasn't my uncle, I'd probably be in jail for your murders. They'd most likely try and link me with Cathy's disappearance, too. Can you tell me what's going on? Where's this secret place? What are you going to do? And what can I do to help? We have to find her soon. She's already missed two treatments. Her doctor says she won't last much longer without the transplant."
"I don't have time to explain it all. I have to get back there." Dale jumped up and headed out of the bedroom. She could only pray that Thea had made it safely to Shadow's world and that when she got there, someone like Shadow had been there to look out for her. She shuddered to think of Thea in the hands of men like those who attacked the Shakar.
"Where's there?" Scott followed behind her down the stairs and out into the yard toward a massive willow tree near the river's edge. "What are you doing?"
Ignoring the scrape of rough bark on her hands, Dale climbed ten feet up the gnarled trunk and reached into a hidden hollow between two branches. "This is our 'secret place.'" Even before Cathy's disappearance, Thea and Dale had used the hollow to store special items and leave messages for one another. Under a covering of moist wood fibers and dry leaves, a small metal box met her questing fingers. With a cry of relief, she pulled it out and scrambled back down the tree.
Her back against the trunk, she sank down beneath the tree and cradled the box against her chest. What was inside? A route to Thea's side? Or another heartbreak?
Scott crouched down beside her. "Are you going to open it?" he asked softly.
Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.
The back of Raf's neck tingled with the hostile gaze of unseen eyes as he searched the rocky cliff for the hidden entry to the Shakar valley. The sound of an arrow being notched kept him moving past the well-concealed opening. Several lengths away he slipped behind a large boulder. If the Shakar were intent on his death, it wouldn't protect him for long, but it might allow him enough time to declare his peaceful intentions before they slaughtered him.
"I come in peace with a message from your brethren, T'Mal," Raf shouted into the silence.
After a lengthy pause, a rough voice commanded, "Throw down your weapons and step out, human."
Reluctantly, Raf tossed his sheathed sword and dagger from behind the boulder. If the Shakar turned ugly, the small knife tucked inside his boot would be scant help, but he refused to go meekly to his death. He squared his shoulders, stepped forward and found himself facing a dozen suspicious and hostile Shakar warriors. Cold sweat trickled down his spine, but he let none of his fear show.
He placed his clenched fist against his chest and gave a shallow bow. "Greetings. I am Shadow. I bring you word of T'Mal." Fixing his gaze on the grizzled Shakar, the obvious leader, who stood at the head of the group, he related what had happened to T'Mal's village and his warning.
Throughout his narrative the Shakar kept their arrows and spears aimed at his heart. Though he enjoyed life, never before had the thought of death filled him with such dread. To die now, meant to never again hold Dale. But if he survived, how was he to find her?
When he finished, the Shakar leader lowered his spear and motioned to his warriors to do likewise. "I am R'Ken, leader of our village. For your kindness to our brethren you are welcome. Come." He spoke in his own language to his warriors, then turned and headed toward the opening.
One young warrior picked up Raf's sword and dagger. Another motioned with his spear for Raf to follow R'Ken into the opening.
Within moments Raf was lost. Apparently, T'Mal's trust was limited. He hadn't mentioned the maze of pitch-black tunnels just beyond the entrance. Without the Shakar to lead him Raf would have blundered around in the dark until he went mad and died.
For what seemed like hours they moved downward. The air grew cold and damp, smelling of things best left unknown. Eyes burning with the effort to see, he struggled to follow the Shakar. They moved like silent wraiths, with only the occasional scrape of a spear against rock to give him any indication he was not alone.
Time lost meaning as he moved through the darkness. Light and reality became an almost forgotten dream. He struggled to control the scream building inside him, knowing if he gave voice to it he would plunge into moonless insanity. The memory of lying beaten and bloody, moaning alone in the darkness, haunted him.
As his hold on reason started to slip, the tunnel slanted upward. The temperature warmed, and the blackness lightened to gray.
He walked into the back of a Shakar. The creature growled a warning. With heart pounding and lungs straining to breathe the dark, heavy air, Raf stood still and waited. Other than the faintest sounds of breathing, silence reigned. The harsh grate of rock against rock shattered the peace.
Sunshine flooded the tunnel. Blinded by the light, he squinted.
A spear prodded the small of his back. "Move, human."
Unable to see more than a blur of light, he stumbled forward. Sounds and smells filled the air. Laughter. Shouts. The chirp of insects. Wood smoke. Roasting meat. Raf shaded his eyes and struggled to sort out the images.
"Your vision will clear soon," R'Ken said. "Come. Word of your arrival and news has spread. A feast is being prepared."
"But how?"
"Some secrets the Shakar will keep." R'Ken's chuckle contained little humor. "My people will wish to speak with you."
"Though I appreciate your offer, I would continue on my journey. There is little more I can tell them."
"I insist."
The sharp point of R'Ken's spear convinced him to accept the thinly veiled offer of hospitality.
With each moment Raf's vision grew clearer. Surrounded by towering blue crystal peaks on four sides, a lush valley spread out in front of him. On the far side, a shimmering waterfall cascaded down the sheer cliff into a wide blue lake. Like a lazy silver snake a river started from the edge of the lake and wound through the valley to disappear into the mountains on the other side. Small stands of trees filled the curves of the river, their branches blushed with spring greenery. Broad fields of newly sprouted crops covered about a quarter of the flat ground.
To the right, openings riddled the mountainside. It took a moment for Raf to recognize them as dwellings. Terraced and connected by rope ladders, the caves served as home to the Shakar living in this idyllic valley. Shakar, young and old, scampered agilely up and down the steep ladders connecting the caves.
That evening Raf sat next to R'Ken on a broad plateau carved from the mountainside. Perched midway up the cliff, without a ladder, there could be no escape. Moonlight bleached the world of color, casting long gray shadows across the valley below. Glowing torches and a blazing bonfire lit the center of the Shakar village, giving all a blood red hue. The smell of roasting shoat and fermented gana teased his nose and made his stomach rumble in anticipation. When had he last eaten? Mid-meal with Dale the previous day was long past.
Underscored by the rhythmic pounding of drums, stringed instruments vied with woodwinds, filling the fragrant air with music. Shakar, pretending to ignore his presence, ate and danced and laughed in the flickering light.
"Eat. Drink, my human friend." With each glass of fermented gana, R'Ken's antagonism toward Raf faded.
Raf nodded and accepted a plate piled high with seared bloody meat from a female Shakar. He merely sipped the strong brew.
The female leaned close and stroked his bare arm. He shivered as the musky scent of her arousal wafted over him.
"You are the first human male I have seen. Your furless skin is very strange. I would see more of it," she purred in his ear. Her sheathed claws left tiny silver trails on his flesh.
He recoiled from her touch. Under normal circumstances he might have found her blatant sexuality intriguing, even a challenge. But after Dale's warm, uninhibited giving, this creature's bold search for sexual satisfaction left him cold. He removed her hand from his arm.
"Thank you, but no."
Her yellow eyes narrowed in fury and her thin lips curled back to reveal gleaming fangs. "You hairless water worm." She hissed her displeasure and swiped her claws toward his face.
R'Ken caught her arm and threw her back. "Be gone, G'Lema. Are you so lost in your breeding fever that you'd risk conceiving a half-breed kit? Besides, the human does not want or need you. He carries the scent of his woman."
She landed on her backside inches from the bonfire. Laughter followed as she slunk out of the light.
R'Ken turned toward Raf. "Forgive her. Our females are not usually so aggressive, but she lost her mate less than a tenday ago and is in a breeding cycle. In a few days time, she will be most embarrassed to recall her behavior toward you this night." He paused and regarded Raf with ill-concealed hostility. "Unless you wish to mate with her? If you do, be warned, she will conceive. Half-breed kits are not easily accepted."
"No. I have no wish to father a child, half-breed or otherwise." As he spoke the words, he knew them to be a lie. The thought of having a child brought Dale's image to his mind.
Had his seed found fertile ground in her body? If so, would he ever see the child of their union? Her strength, courage and loyalty would make her an ideal mother. He remembered how she'd fought unrelentingly to find a way back to her child.
Unlike the women at court, Dale didn't primp and preen or play coy seductive games. Nor did she boldly seek his attentions, as the farmers' daughters and peasant women were wont to do. Undaunted by his superior size and strength, she faced him without flinching, defiantly demanding he regard her as his equal. He knew of only two other women with such courage---one was dead and the other was Ash's mate, Katrina.
For four annum Raf had denied what he'd seen happen on the battlements at Castle Mar. No longer could he ignore the truth. The strange woman Ash had brought to the castle was, as she had claimed, from another world. She too had worn a milky crystal medallion. But she was gone, killed by Kersin's sword through her heart, and as had Dale, her body had vanished in a bolt of lightning.
At the time, though Raf grieved for his friend's pain, he had thanked the Eternal One. Ash's love for the woman Cathy had been ill advised. Heir to the thrones of two kingdoms, Prince Ash de Gar was joined with the Princess Katrina. His destiny allowed no room for a commoner.
Raf now understood Ash's despair. Dale was lost to him. With his own eyes, he'd watched her disappear in a flash of lightning. But he refused to believe that the lightning had seared her into oblivion. She was out there somewhere. The Eternal One willing, she had found her way back to her daughter.
He touched the small ragged crystal buried deep in his cloak's pocket. Warmth raced through his fingers. What strange power did this unimpressive chunk of crystal have? Did it hold a way for him to find Dale?
"What reason do you have for wandering the Azul Mountains?" R'Ken question drew Raf from his thoughts. "Other than outlaws and slavers, few humans pass through these mountains."
Raf weighed his options. Despite his guarantee of safe passage from T'Mal, Raf doubted R'Ken intended to let him go free. Even if he could escape the Shakar's vigilance, without their help, he'd never find his way through the tunnels. If they knew his true goal would they assist or kill him?
"I seek the slaver, Devros."
R'Ken's slanted eyes narrowed, and the gray streaked ruff of fur around his head rose. "Why?"
Raf's fate hung upon his answer.
"To put an end to his reign of terror. To kill him."
Months of pretending to be a slaver had left an oily residue upon his ka. Putting his mission into words cleansed him. He wished he had told Dale the truth.
After spending time with her and seeing her concern for Dolan's family and the Shakar, he could no longer suspect her of being in league with Devros. He knew her heart and ka were pure and didn't contain the evil such an association would entail. As she told him when she saw through his lies, actions spoke louder than words---or the lack of them.
"You are a bold one, human. Devros is not so easily stopped. Better men than you have hunted him. Their bodies litter the mountainsides. Supposing you do find him, how will you, one man alone, stop him?"
R'Ken's mocking question grated across Raf's nerves, echoing his own doubts. "Does it matter how I intend to find or kill the man? The question is will you attempt to keep me from trying?"
R'Ken's roar of laughter released Raf's tension.
"Far be it from me to keep a human from seeking death. Better you die at Devros' hand than mine. I am bound by T'Mal's promise. At first light I'll escort you out of my valley. To keep you here is to court disaster. Even without fur you draw a female's eye. Sleep lightly this night, human."
"Dale, you can't seriously intend to do this!"
Scott hadn't stopped nagging since she'd first opened the small tin box beneath the old willow tree. Dale tried again to tune out his all too real warnings as she re-read Thea's complicated instructions. The bag of crystal pieces lay on the kitchen table. Was there enough left? What if she made a mistake? What choice did she have?
Scott leaned over her shoulder. "This is madness. You'll end up electrocuting yourself and burning down the house. Let me call someone to help."
His words echoed her fears.
She turned on him. "Who are you going to call? Who's going to believe this? I don't believe it myself and I lived through it. Thea is alone and ill in a strange, violent world. I've got to go after her. So if you're not going to help me, go away."
"What do you need me to do?" Scott placed his hand on her shoulder.
"I don't have a large enough piece of crystal to conduct the electricity I need. Each time it's used it loses its structural integrity. Pieces break off. The first time I saw this crystal it was perfectly round and clear, like a huge diamond. That's it!" The idea hit her like a bolt of lightning.
"What's it?"
"Diamonds. Earth crystal is soft. Tareth crystal is metal strong and diamond hard. Or at least it used to be. Now it's become soft and crumbling. The transfer must weaken it somehow. That's why Thea could grind it up. I can use diamonds to replace the crystal. Take me into town. Where's my purse? I'll need my credit cards."
"Whoa. You can't go into town."
"Why not?"
"The sheriff's been searching high and low for you and Thea. If you turn up in town, he'll have you in for questioning, and it'll be a month of Christmases before you get out. Besides, all your accounts have been put on hold pending the investigation."
Dale sank into a chair. "What am I going to do? I've got to get some diamonds or I'll never make it back."
Scott knelt next to her and took her hand. "Are you sure you want to try this crazy scheme?"
She looked down into his earnest face and nodded.
"Then don't worry, I'll take care of it." He stood. "Get everything ready. I'll be back in about an hour."
"Thank you, Scott. You're a good friend."
"Yeah, right. Just be prepared for me to be joining you when Gail gets the bill for the diamonds I'm going to buy that she won't be wearing." He gave her a jaunty grin and strode out of the kitchen.
A few moments later Dale heard the roar of his motorcycle.
Her hands shook as she followed Thea's directions. A quick search of her closet turned up the all cotton stretch pants, shirt and the leather sandals she needed. She ground all but one shard of the crystal to a fine powder and imbedded it into the clothing fibers. If Scott didn't get the diamonds, her attempt to return to Shadow's world would end in failure. And she'd probably find herself locked away in a mental institution---or in jail.
What if Thea hadn't made it to Shadow's world? Were there other worlds out there? She had to believe Thea was in Shadow's world. Without faith, she was lost. Thea was lost.
What of Shadow? Was he searching for her? Or had he put her out of his mind and gone on? Wouldn't he be surprised when she turned back up on his doorstep.
As much as Dale wanted to search for Cathy, she knew her sister would understand why she couldn't. Once she made the transfer to Shadow's world and found Thea, they had to return before her kidneys failed and it was too late.
Pink and purple streaked the sky before Scott returned. The roar of his motorcycle sounded like music to Dale's ears. She rushed out the door.
"Have you got them?" She grabbed the bag from the back of the bike.
"It wasn't easy." He pulled off his helmet and followed Dale into the house. "Old man Carlton at the jewelry store couldn't understand why I'd want so many unset diamonds. But greed finally got the better of him. After you're gone, I don't know how I'm going to explain any of this."
"Thank you, Scott. I'll pay you back when Thea and I return. And," she paused, "if we don't make it back, I've written a will that names you as sole beneficiary of my estate. It's hidden under my mattress and dated two years ago."
Scott groaned. "Great. The sheriff already thinks I had something to do with your disappearance. When your will shows up I'll end up in jail."
Dale laughed. "Your uncle is hardly likely to arrest you, even if he thought you'd killed me, which I'm sure he doesn't. It's time for me to leave now."
Scott nodded and swallowed heavily.
Dale threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. "Good-bye. You've been the best friend a girl could ever ask for."
His arms closed tightly around her. "Take care. And come back. I'll wait until you're gone."
She stepped back. "No, leave now. If this doesn't work, I don't want you to be the one to find my body."
After he moved reluctantly out of the door and the sound of his motorcycle faded, she picked up the diamonds and remaining crystal. When the crystal touched the diamonds in her hand a tingling sensation coursed up her arm. The tiny hairs on her body stood on end. The closer she came to the electrical outlet the stronger the vibration became.
She clutched the last long shard of crystal, making sure it touched the diamonds in her palm and thrust it into the outlet.
For a split second she thought nothing would happen, that her plan---Thea's plan---had failed. Then a current of power slammed into her body. Her breath whooshed out. Around her the kitchen dissolved in a rain of sparkling light. Each nerve ending in her body came alive and screamed its protest at being jolted into another realm.
"Shadow!" she shouted just before she lost consciousness.
Shadow!
Raf's head shot up. Alert to danger, he searched the rocky trail he traveled for the source of Dale's voiceless scream. Silence blanketed the mountainside. Nothing stirred.
A strange tingling ran through him. His fingers sought out the shard of crystal, but the stone was cold and still in his grasp. His imagination had conjured Dale's frantic cry for help. His tension made the quinar beneath him prance nervously.
He couldn't let thoughts of Dale distract him.
Good as his word, R'Ken had escorted Raf through the maze of tunnels, back to where he had left the quinar. All morning he'd followed the twisting mountain track deeper into Devros' territory. Though he saw no one, he could feel suspicious eyes tracking his progress. Soon they would make their move and confront him.
Not for the first time Raf wondered about the wisdom of his plan. Why should Devros believe he wished to join him? Beyond his brief association with Devros' three scouts and a glib lie, what proof did Raf bring?
But all other methods of reaching the slaver's lair had been exhausted. Last annum King Timon of Dramon had sent troops into the mountains to search for Devros. None of the scouting missions had made it this far. Devros' hideout was well hidden and well protected. One by one Dramon's troops were picked off on the narrow mountain passes. The few survivors returned home with little more information than they left with. And the slave raids continued, with more lives like Dolan's shattered by the inhumanity of slavery. Now Dramon's small army stood against two foes---one within and one without.
Out of friendship, Prince Ash had tried to dissuade Raf from his plan to infiltrate Devros' ranks. But in the end he had reluctantly agreed to this last desperate attempt to stabilize Dramon's political situation. Raf knew if he failed, the best outcome he could hope for would be death.
Memories of his years as a slave threatened to overwhelm him. Raf had to know. Was Devros the man who had betrayed Raf's family into death, rape and slavery?
Was Devros his older brother?
"Father!"
Thea hung back in the shelter of boulders lining the path as T'Nar threw himself into the welcoming arms of the imposing black Shakar.
"You live." Emotion choked the adult Shakar's voice as he knelt to embrace his son.
Tears burned Thea's eyes as she watched their reunion. Would she ever see her mother again? Without success she tried to blink her tears away.
Being bound to T'Nar through his sister's memories didn't ease the ache she felt for her mother or change the fact that she was dying. Though the bond between her and T'Nar seemed to have somehow slowed the process, her body continued to shut down. If she didn't find a way home soon it would be too late.
"T'ea."
T'Nar's soft voice and gentle touch on her shoulder roused her from self-pity. She looked up into the green cat eyes of---her father.
No. She tried to deny what instinct told her. This man, this Shakar wasn't her father. He was T'Nar's sister's father. She shook her head.
Memories of the other entity contained within her rose in her mind, drowning out rational thought. Logic might tell her this Shakar was not her father, but her heart said otherwise.
"Saara---daughter." He opened his arms to her.
With a whimper of defeat she walked into his embrace.
Dale eyed the three men circling around her. Big and burly, they wore poorly tanned furs, and their hair and beards were dirty and unkempt. They grinned, sure of their coming victory over her.
She didn't have time for this. Thea was out there somewhere, alone, and ill. She prayed she'd find her before men like these did. She moved steadily backwards, trying to keep all three beyond arm's reach and from getting behind her. Her one quick throw of the smallest of the three men wouldn't keep them away long. His glare promised retribution for his humiliation at her hands.
Moments after she'd roused herself from the transfer, they'd found her. She hadn't had time to congratulate herself before they attacked. Dazed and disoriented, she'd grabbed the man as he reached out for her. Her throw owed more to luck than skill. Arms heavy and legs weak, she swayed from the effort. It was only a matter of time before they rushed her. At the top of her form, these three would have posed little threat, but the last few years she'd been lax in training, spending more time on her sculpture than at the martial arts academy.
Evidently, Thea's method of transport worked, but Dale couldn't recommend the trip. Her head pounded in unison with the heavy thud of her heart. At least she'd arrived clothed. The thought of being naked before these men made her shudder.
"She's a sweet one, ain't she? A tad small, but nicely rounded. How much you think Devros will give for her?" the man on her far right asked the other two.
Devros. They worked for Devros? Her mouth went dry, and despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled under her arms.
"Why sell her to Devros?" the small man asked. "We can use her, then sell her to the Belanites ourselves. Is it fair that Devros keeps the best women and the bulk of the profit for himself, when we do all the work and take all the risks?"
"You're mad, Ulger." The largest of the three men stopped. "Devros has eyes everywhere. I've seen what he does to those who cross him. I'll have no part of it."
Ulger stopped and spat, then turned to the man on her right. "What say you, Faxan? Are you afraid of Devros like Treman here? Wouldn't you like a taste of her?" He nodded his head at Dale.
Treman and the man on her right looked familiar. Dale searched her still fuzzy mind for the answer. Then it came to her. They were the men she'd seen in the cave, the ones who'd run away as the spinners attacked their companion. Shadow's men.
Treman cocked his head and studied her. "I've seen her before. She's the one we found with Shadow." His eyes narrowed. "How'd she get away from him? He can't be far behind. I'd rather cross Devros than him."
Fazan shrugged. "The spinners probably got him. What's it matter? His loss is our gain. I'm with Ulger. She's fair game. Let's take her."
Dale shuddered at their casual disregard of human life. Her's in particular. Involved in discussing her fate, their attention wavered from her. They moved closer together.
She edged away. Another twenty yards and she could hide amid the huge boulders and scrub brush along the base of the cliff. She doubted she had the strength or stamina to fight them and win. She had to escape. Without her, Thea would die here.
"Watch her! She's getting away." Treman lunged at her.
His dirty fingers latched onto her left shoulder. Instinct and training kicked in. In one swift motion she grabbed his wrist, ducked and twisted until his arm bent in an unnatural position behind his back. At the same time, she kicked at the back of his knee. Screaming in pain and anger, he collapsed.
Body poised and ready, she blinked the sweat from her eyes and waited for the other two men to react. Years of training took over. Rational thought receded to a dim corner of her mind. She fought for life---hers and Thea's. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, vanquishing weakness and doubt.
Ulger, favoring his arm, hung back. "Get her, Faxan."
Faxan licked his lips and shook his head. "You get her."
"Coward," Ulger spat. "She's but one, and a woman. Her fancy tricks won't help her if we work together."
The little man was right. Adrenaline strength wouldn't last long. When it faded they would overpower her.
"See. Already the she-hound trembles for our embrace."
"I'd sooner bed down with a pig," Dale taunted.
"Give up now and I promise we won't hurt you..." Ulger rubbed his injured arm and grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotting teeth. "...much."
He feinted toward her. She lashed out. He ducked back and her kick fell short. His laugh grated on her ears. Waiting for his move started to tell on Dale.
Watching Ulger, she was unprepared for Faxan's rush. Intent on carrying her to the ground and subduing her with his body mass, he slammed into her side. She twisted in his grasp, clamped her fingers around his upper arms, went down on her back and used his own momentum to heave him over her head. He landed with a grunt and lay motionless. Dale rolled to her feet to face Ulger.
"What now, little man?" Exhaustion fogged her vision, but palm up, she curled her fingers in a come hither motion. "Come on. It's your turn."
"Moon cursed she-hound." Ulger growled his anger, but kept his distance. "Run away. You won't get far. I know these mountains and its dangers. You don't. Soon enough you'll pray for me to find you."
"Not likely." Dale edged backwards, determined to put as much space as possible between her and this walking nightmare before she collapsed.
A few yards away Treman sat on the ground. He massaged his now swollen knee and glared at her. The hatred in his eyes made her shiver. Faxan was out cold. How long before they regained their bravado and came after her again? When they did, would she have the strength, both physical and mental, to kill them?
Treman's gaze shifted to something behind her. Before she could react, a strong arm wrapped around her chest and lifted her off her feet. She lashed out with her feet and arms, but the strength of his grip forced her to be still. Familiar scents of mint, leather and man flooded her nostrils.
Shadow. Relief washed through her. She went lax in his grip and his hold eased.
"Comrades, my gratitude for helping me recover my property." Shadow's breath blew hot across her cheek.
Rage caught in her chest. How could she have forgotten what he claimed to be? His betrayal? Adrenaline surged again. She tensed. Her muscles screamed in protest.
Shadow's lips touched the outer curve of her ear. Unexpected and unwanted heat speared her body. She tried to jerk away. His arm tightened.
"Tiguer. You trusted me in your bed. Now trust me with our lives."
"Trust you? Not likely," she whispered back. "Why should I?"
"I will explain---later. For now, do as I say. Our lives depend on it."
"What are you whispering about?" Ulger demanded. "The woman is ours. We found her. Why should we share her with you?"
With one arm, Shadow shifted his hold and anchored Dale to his side. "I said nothing about sharing. Do you contest my claim to the woman?"
From beneath his cloak Shadow lifted his sword. Dale watched the red crystal blade catch the light and bathe the rocky ground with a crimson glow.
"No, no," Ulger stuttered, backing away as he spoke. "The woman's yours and welcome to her you are. Too boyish for my taste. You can fight Devros for her."
For now, Dale huddled against Shadow. His arm around her waist was all that held her upright. The heat from his body kept the cold of shock from overwhelming her. Later there would be time for anger. For questions.
"Ah, Treman." Shadow shifted his attention to the man. "I had thought you and Faxan lost, so quickly did you disappear after poor Armat's untimely death."
Treman ducked his head to avoid Shadow's searching gaze. "Thought the spinners had got you as well."
"Do you lay claim to the woman? If so, perhaps you will return the crystal coin I gave you and Faxan to present me to Devros."
Treman shook his head. "I think your she-hound has broken my leg."
"You," Shadow told Ulger, "see to him and Faxan."
"Why me?" Ulger protested.
"Do you have other plans?" The red blade made a graceful arc in the air.
"No." Ulger eyed the blade warily and crouched next to the wakening Faxan.
"Gather up your quinar. We leave shortly." He started toward his quinar.
Dale's legs went to rubber beneath her. She staggered. Shadow's grip kept her from falling.
"Do not faint now," he whispered harshly in her ear. "I cannot carry you. I need my sword arm free. If they sense any weakness, they will attack and I will have to kill them."
"Then kill them." Dale stiffened her spine and kept pace with Shadow as he led her away from the three grumbling men.
"I need them alive. They are my route to Devros."
Dale stopped so suddenly Shadow was two steps beyond her before he also halted. Out of earshot of the men, Dale raised her voice. "I thought you worked for Devros. Why do you need these guys?"
"There is no time to explain."
"Now's the perfect time." Anger pushed aside fatigue. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him. "I want answers, and I want them now. Or I'm not taking another step."
Raf longed to pull this unruly woman into his embrace and soothe her anger. At the same time he wanted to bind her hand, foot and mouth and throw her over his shoulder. He ran an impatient hand through his hair and glanced at the three slavers. They moved slowly, their injuries obviously paining them. He struggled to hide the grin building inside him. His tiguer lived up to her name.
He'd watched in fear and horror as she faced the three slavers, sure they would capture and do her injury before he could make his way down the mountainside to her rescue. Instead, though clearly groggy, she'd managed to turn their greater strength and size against them. Pride swelled. Then anger. Her actions had put her in danger.
"Come." He turned abruptly, swung up onto his patient quinar and waited.
Dale's angry gaze flew from him to the slavers then back. She stomped to the quinar's side. "Where's Jo?" she asked about the other quinar.
Raf reached down his hand. "I will tell you all---later. We must make haste." He nodded at the three slavers who were now mounted and headed toward them. Their sullen faces didn't bode well.
Dale grabbed Raf's hand and let him lift her up in front of him. Her slim hips settled between his thighs. Dressed in pants made of a thin material that clung like a second skin to her long legs, Dale's warmth quickly penetrated his groin. Unbidden memories surfaced. Pale limbs glowing in the firelight. Silken skin brushing his. He bit back a groan as heat rushed through him. She wiggled her hips.
"Be still," he grounded out between clenched teeth. The woman would be the death of him yet.
"Then get your sword out of my ass," Dale shot back.
Raf lifted his sword into her line of vision. The back of her neck flared red and she went dead still, but he felt her body twitch in what he guessed was a satisfied laugh.
All three slavers grimacing in pain, they rode up to Raf.
"Ulger, you lead," Raf commanded. "Then Faxan and lastly Treman. I will protect the rear."
With a muttered oath, Ulger followed Raf's orders and the other two fell into line. Raf had figured correctly, Ulger, despite his small stature, led this band of misfits.
Raf knew he played a dangerous game. Without Ava to go for help, and if Raf couldn't convince Devros of his value, the best he could pray for was death. Never again would he allow himself to be enslaved. He would kill any man who tried to do so, or die resisting.
By what right did he expose Dale to the risks he took? In his heart he knew her innocent of any connection to Devros. Honor demanded he turn away from his determined quest to destroy Devros and put her out of harm's way. But the choice no longer belonged to him. Ulger and the others would not quietly allow them to leave. Even now Raf sensed they were being observed. Devros knew others were coming. To turn away now meant failure, possibly death.
After a few minutes of silence, Dale asked, "Did you find T'Sela?"
"No, but I located T'Mal's village and they will look for her."
"Good," she said and fell silent again.
The sun beat down on Raf's shoulders, but Dale, in her thin shirt, shivered in the crisp mountain air. He sheathed his sword and wrapped an arm around her waist. She went rigid, refusing to lean into his chest for comfort.
"Where is the soft, willing woman who shared my bed?"
"That fool is gone."
With gentle force he pulled her stiff body against him. "Is it foolish to follow your heart?" He pulled up her shirt and stroked the warm skin beneath her unbound breasts.
A tremor ran through her. "Stop that." She tried to squirm away from his hand. "You're mistaking lust for love. You owe me some explanations." She captured his hand with her own.
Raf nodded. He owed her more than explanations. He owed her life. Freedom. Love. None of which he could promise to deliver. "Ask your questions. I will answer."
"About time," she muttered. "Who are you?"
He spared a glance for the slavers plodding ahead. They moved along a narrow mountain trail. The surrounding cliffs gave little access to anyone seeking to ambush them. Nor did it allow them an escape route if attacked.
"Well?" Dale prompted.
"I have asked for your trust, so I must give you mine. Repeat what I tell you and I will die, while you will soon wish for death."
Dale shivered at Shadow's ominous tone. What could be worse than being a slaver? Squeezed between his thighs and the saddle horn, she shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position. His soft groan brought a smile to her lips. "Payback's a bitch, ain't it big guy?" she muttered.
"What say you?"
"Nothing. Tell me what's going on."
She felt him lift his head. Her skin tingled as his hair brushed against her cheek and neck. She jerked away.
"My true name is Raf del Jakar. My lord has charged me with the task of ending the slave trade. By posing as a slaver, I seek to find and destroy Stefan Devros, the man who controls the slave trade through these mountains."
"All by yourself? Wouldn't it be better to send in soldiers to track down and arrest this Devros?"
"Troops were sent. Their very numbers caused their failure and deaths. Devros easily tracked them through the passes and picked them off one by one, leaving only a few to return and tell the tale as a warning. But a single man can slip undetected through this mountain maze and surprise the shardak in his lair.
"Who sent you on this fool's mission?"
"My lord is no fool, and the plan is mine."
"So, once you find Devros, what are you planning to do?"
"I will send a message back revealing his stronghold."
"And just how do you intend to accomplish this?"
"Ava will carry the message. Once Devros' location is known, troops will be sent in. With my map to guide them, they will not wander aimlessly until Devros' men pick them off."
Dale looked around for the annoying bird then asked, "Excuse me, but where's Ava?"
"She will return."
"Maybe. In the meantime, why should Devros trust you?"
"I have information he needs to further his trade."
"Okay, but what's to prevent him from torturing you for that information then killing you? Or selling you into slavery?"
Shadow's body went rigid. "No man will ever enslave me again."
He'd been a slave. Dolan had guessed right. The horrible scars crisscrossing Shadow's back were the marks of his captivity. How much he'd suffered. Despite her anger at him, the thought of this strong proud man forced to bend to the will and whims of another softened her heart. Warmth spread through her when his arm brushed against the underside of her breasts. "Did Devros give you those scars?"
"No." Soul deep anger vibrated in his voice. "Another has already paid with his life for that pleasure."
"Tell me."
Remembered fear, pain and rage lowered Raf's voice to a harsh whisper as he spoke of the night his childhood ended and events beyond his control forged him into the man he was.
Long suppressed images rose in his mind. He could see and feel the flames engulfing the comfortable manor house he'd called home. Heat from the blaze dried the tears on his cheeks as he lay bound and gagged on the ground like a shoat for slaughter, helpless to prevent the destruction.
The acrid scent of smoke and burning flesh singed his nostrils. His mother's screams echoed in his ears as she struggled in Devros' steely grip, his father lying broken and bloody at her feet.
His sisters' wails of terror as they were carried away haunted him still.
When Dale placed a comforting hand on his arm, he pulled back from her touch.
Hurt by Raf's rejection, Dale blinked away the moisture from her eyes and stared ahead. Let him keep his demons. She had her own troubles to deal with. "What do you do, when you're not out chasing slavers?"
"I serve as Master of Arms to Prince de Gar."
"Degar? Ash Degar." Her fingers bit into his arm. Thea's theories and dreams were true. If Cathy was still here on this strange world, they could find Thea together and go home. "You know him? He's here? I have to speak to him."
Shadow looked puzzled. "He is not here. I would not allow him to risk his person in this quest. My Lord resides at Castle Mar with his lifemate, Princess Katrina of Mardelan."
"Married? Degar is married? What about Cathy? What did that bastard do with my sister?"
"Speak softly. You draw the attention of our comrades." Shadow nodded pointedly at the men gazing curiously back at them.
"I don't care." Dale lowered her voice. "Your prince made off with my sister and I want to know what he did with her."
"Who is your sister?"
Dale got the feeling Shadow knew the answer to his own question, but for some reason he refused to acknowledge it. "Cathy Lawrence. Short brown hair and brown eyes. Uses a cane to walk. The playing cards in the cave are her artwork. Was she there? With Degar? Where is she now?"
His long pause made Dale's heart sink. He tightened his arm around her waist. Her brief hope of finding Cathy alive died.
"She's dead, isn't she?" Fresh pain lanced through Dale, and she sagged against Shadow. After seven years of grieving, Dale thought she'd come to terms with the loss of her foster sister. Now she knew she'd never truly accepted Cathy's death. "How did she die?"
"She died a hero. Your sister put herself between Prince de Gar and Kersin, a man determined to kill him. Kersin's sword pierced her heart. She died in Ash's arms, her love for him on her lips. Lightning took her remains."
"Thank you for telling me." The pain felt raw. Another loss. Dale struggled to rebury this new grief along with the others she refused to acknowledge. This information, though painful, reminded her she had to focus on finding Thea. Once they were home and Thea was well, she'd revisit her grief.
"It took me time to connect the crystal I found with you to the one Cathy had used," Shadow continued. "Magic crystals and other worlds are not an easy concept to accept. For me, there can be only one world. To remain sane, I strived to put what I saw from my mind. Your presence now makes that impossible. I saw the lightning transport you. But why did you return?"
Was there another question hidden in his eyes.
"Thea is here. I have to find her and get her home before it's too late."
She felt him nod. "We will find her."
Shadow's vow melted the remainder of Dale's anger.
Ahead, the trail widened onto a small plateau. Ulger stopped his quinar and waited for the rest of them to catch up. Shadow's muscles went taut around her. He unsheathed his sword and slipped his dagger into her hand. Further questions would have to wait. She cleared her mind and prepared herself to react to whatever came next.
Shadow stopped his quinar several yards away from the three slavers. "Why do we stop here?"
Dale looked around the plateau. Covered with knee high grass and a scattering of bushes and stunted trees, the plateau seemed deserted of life. An odd blue fog bank obscured the base of the cliff in the distance.
"We wait here for Devros' sentries to alert him. If he wants to see us, he'll send a guide." Treman smirked.
"And if he does not?" Shadow asked.
Ulger shrugged. "We're known here. Our welcome is assured. Yours? Well, we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"
"Shadow, I don't think this is such a good idea," Dale whispered. "Why don't we just leave?"
"Too late." Shadow directed her gaze to the five armed men emerging like ghosts from the blue fog.
Seeing her mother appear in a flash of light stole Thea's breath. Watching those creatures masquerading as men attack her, made her blood boil. Only T'Nar's strong arm around her waist prevented her from charging out of the rocks to her mother's side.
"That's my mom! I have to help her!" She twisted in his grip.
"Shhh," T'Nar whispered in her ear. "They will hear you."
"Wait. Watch." T'Mal's voice calmed her.
She went still and watched as another man came up behind her mother.
Though her logical side said that despite her bizarre connection with T'Nar, his father, T'Mal, was not her father, her Shakar memories and human emotions said otherwise. From the moment T'Nar presented her to his father, she'd felt a bond with him. Without a flicker of hesitation he accepted her as T'Nar's hapala, as his saara---daughter.
Thea's memories of her real father were vague and dreamlike. He'd died when she was only six. Until T'Mal claimed that position in her life, she hadn't really felt deprived. She and her mother were a family of two. Now she mourned for what she'd missed and rejoiced in what she'd found.
Fear twisted in her heart. Had she gained a father only to lose her mother?
T'Mal touched her shoulder. She looked away from her mother and met his understanding gaze. He held out his hand. "Come. Your mother and the man are the ones who saved T'ala and me. Even if I were not now bound with them through you and T'Nar, I could do no less for them. We will follow."
With complete trust she placed her fingers within his strong grip and let him guide her.
They trailed her mother's party until they reached another plateau and were surrounded by more riders. A short while later this new group headed toward yet another mountain pass.
"They're leaving," Thea whispered. "How can we rescue them?"
"Father will find a way." Hero worship shone in T'Nar's eyes.
Looking up at the powerful Shakar, her father, Thea's doubts and fears faded. She didn't argue as he led her and T'Nar back into the mountain tunnels, away from her mother.
Raf watched the riders approach. Silhouetted against the blue fog the men loomed large. Dale tensed. Then the men rode out of the mist into the sunshine.
"Belanites! Of all the moonless luck." Two of the riders were Belanites. He swore and threw his cloak over Dale.
"What the Hell are you doing?" She tried to shove aside the heavy fabric.
"Be still and quiet, and cease your squirming before you unseat us both."
She sat still, but peeked out from beneath his cloak. Her breath caught. "My God! What are they?"
Tall and well built, with long white blond hair, eerie red-black eyes and skin the hue of the surrounding mountains, the two Belanites were an awesome sight. They dwarfed and overshadowed the three humans who rode with them.
"Legend and myth," Raf murmured.
"They look real enough to me. What does legend say about them?"
"A warrior race. Few have ever seen them. Even fewer have lived to tell the tale. They are fiercely independent, solitary creatures. Why have they joined forces with Devros? What can he offer them in exchange for their skill and strength?" he mused aloud.
The answer struck him like a blow.
"Women."
"What?"
"Legend also claims Belanites either cannot or will not father female children. Therefore, they steal women to bear their offspring. None of the women ever return. Protective mountain parents use tales of Belanite enslavement to keep their young daughters from straying too far from home." He felt Dale shudder as he whispered his explanation. "Stay out of sight."
The riders pulled abreast of Raf and the others. An aura of arrogant self-confidence shimmered around the two Belanites. By the creases on his face, the older had at least three score of annum. The younger, despite his size, had barely reached sexual maturity. Except for Dale and himself, the other humans automatically paid them homage.
"Laris Tulan. Laris Zbar." Ulger, Treman and Faxan all bowed their heads and touched their foreheads with the first two fingers of their right hands.
Laris Tulan's red-black gaze raked over Raf. He lifted one bushy white eyebrow at Raf's direct stare. "Who be you?" His gaze strayed to the lump that was Dale. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air like a wolve catching the scent of a lost lambie. "What hide you?"
"He's Shad..." Ulger started.
"Silence, little man. I asked you not."
Ulger shrank back.
"I am Shadow. I hide noth..."
Before Raf could move away, the younger Belanite snatched the cloak aside, exposing Dale's presence. Defiantly, Dale threw back her head and glared at the two now highly interested Belanites. Raf choked back his groan.
In an instant, the younger one's eyes shifted from black to red. The air crackled with tension.
Raf bristled at the creature's undeniable sexual interest in Dale. He pulled her tight against his chest. "The woman is mine."
"See we shall," Tulan said. "Your weapon surrender now and..." he paused and motioned to the other men to surround Raf." ... the female."
Alone, Raf would fight to the death and take more than a few of them along to Oblivion. Dale's presence rendered him helpless. He could not fight these warriors and protect her. Their blades would not discriminate between his flesh and hers.
Foolish pride and a quest for long denied vengeance had led him into a trap. To save her life, must he consign her to a worse fate?
"Zbar, his weapon take. The female take will I." Tulan reached out his arm.
How easy it would be to lop it off.
Over Dale's head their eyes met. Wordlessly they fought, each seeking to command the other. The light of battle blazed red in Tulan's eyes. Rasping over Raf's nerves like ground crystal, the stink of fear-induced sweat---his---soured the air. He shoved aside the unaccustomed emotion and held Tulan's stare.
Respect entered Tulan's gaze, but neither did he waver.
"Dead or alive, the female have will I. Matters it not to me. Choose."
Raf gave a shallow nod and dropped his gaze. The Belanite won this battle, but the war was far from over. Zbar relieved Raf of his sword. He slipped his arm from around Dale's waist.
She flashed him a startled glance.
"Female, come you to me." Tulan reached out for her.
"Wait just one damned minute!"
His fingers curled around her upper arm to pull her to him.
He didn't flinch as the knife in her hand slashed across his hand. A thin line of crimson welled on his blue flesh.
"Touch me again, you bloody blue freak, and you'll pull back a stump."
Tulan grinned up at Raf. "Why her claws haven't you pulled from this little cat?"
Raf shrugged. "What use to a warrior is a cat without claws?"
"Good it is has she fire and courage. Well will she do as mother to many Belanite warriors."
Raf smothered his cry of denial. Dale would never belong to another.
"Try that and you'll lose something more important than a hand." Dale waved the knife beneath the smiling Belanite's nose. "Shadow, do something."
He plucked the knife from her hand and tossed it to Zbar. She sputtered her outrage, then swore when he handed her, kicking and screaming epitaphs, to Tulan.
"Harm her and I will kill you."
At Raf's threat, Tulan's smile faded.
"What can he do against the eight of us? Let me kill him now." Ulger snickered.
"You're welcome to try." Raf readied himself for Ulger's attack.
"No." Tulan moved his mount between them. "Alive Devros wants him. His time to die will come."
Fortunately for Raf, Tulan seemed unwilling to perform that task---just yet.
"Understand you, I do. But know you this, flatlander, the female now is mine."
Raf didn't bother to argue the point or to inform the Belanite that he called the rugged mountains of Arete home. Soon enough he would rue his mistake---not killing Raf when he'd had the opportunity.
Tulan bundled the still struggling Dale in front of him. Whirling his mount around, he shouted to his men. "Bring him. His fate decide will Devros."
"Damn you, Shadow," Dale swore. What else on this crazy world could go wrong and keep her from finding Thea?
Dale watched as Shadow meekly allowed his hands to be tied behind his back and his mount led away by a grinning Ulger. She twisted her head to glare at her captor. "Let me go, you ... you ugly ... Smurf!"
Tulan held her securely, binding her arms uselessly against her side, with one inflexible arm. Without leverage, she was reduced to kicking. The sandals on her feet made little impact against the tough leather knee-high boots he wore. Her toes took the brunt of the blows. His quinar stood steady beneath them as she continued to struggle and swear, until he tightened his hold and breathing became difficult. When she gave up in exhaustion, his grip eased, becoming almost gentle.
He kneed his quinar into motion and they followed behind the others.
After awhile, Tulan asked, "What be smurf?"
"Huh?" His question roused Dale from a half-doze. Stress, fear and exertion, in addition to the transfer, had left her disoriented.
"Matters it not. Seasons, how many have you?"
She looked up at his strange, yet oddly appealing, blue features. Flat black now, not a hint of red showed in his eyes. "Seasons?"
"Annum. Old, how are you?"
"Thirty-two."
"Pity. Too old you are for my son. But others there are who will take you to mate. Strong, you are. A fine tupia will you be. Many etu ohna will you bear."
Dale stiffened. She wasn't sure exactly what a tupia or an etu ohna might be, but she didn't like the sound of it. "Now just hold on. No overgrown Smurf is going to dictate my life. I've got better things to do."
"Accept you will your fate. No human female resist can a Belanite."
The Belanite's arrogant attitude, not to mention his manhandling of her person, grated on her already overwrought nerves. "I don't know about other women, but I find you extremely resistible."
Tulan's deep rumble of laughter vibrated through her body.
"Amuse me you do, female. Tell me, what call they you?"
She hesitated for a moment, then answered on a yawn, "Dale." What harm could it do for him to know her name?
"Dal." On the Belanite's tongue her name sounded soft and musical.
She looked up at him. Like white silk, his hair brushed against her cheeks. On each side of his face thin braids of different colored hairs were woven into his own. As they rode his hair swung. As they knocked together, the blue crystal beads decorating the length of each braid made a pleasant chiming sound. The other Belanite had also worn beaded braids, though not as many as Tulan.
Curiosity made her touch a beaded braid and ask, "What are these?" These Belanite warriors seemed unlikely to spend time and effort weaving ornaments into their hair.
"A braid I wear for each of my females. And a bead for the etu ohnas, sons, borne they have for me."
Dale counted at least a dozen braids and with the constant motion she lost count of the beads at twenty-four.
He met her startled gaze and smiled. "Sleep, little Dal."
She flinched as he lifted his hand to her face, but he merely smoothed the tangled hair from her cheek. At his gentle touch her eyelids drooped heavily. Exhaustion drained her of fight. A scent like that of warm vanilla and cinnamon drifted through her fast fading consciousness.
She struggled to keep her eyes open. "Wh-what are you doing to me?"
Tulan's face wavered, appearing angelic above her. "Sleep. Better will you feel when you waken."
Fear and anger floated away as she fought against the lure of peace and contentment sleep offered. She slumped against his hard warm chest.
There was something she needed to remember. Something she needed to do.
Memory started to dissolve.
Thea!
Like a shot of adrenaline, Thea's name dissipated the scented lethargy stealing her mind and will. Her muscles contracted in revolt.
"Sleep," Tulan crooned. The vanilla and cinnamon scent intensified.
Somehow he was drugging her. It would be so easy to surrender. Only the thought of Thea fueled her resistance.
She breathed slowly and shallowly, but let her body relax. Maybe if he thought her complaisant, he would let down his guard and she could escape. She had to find Thea.
Raf eyed the crumbling bluestone castle stronghold set on a small plateau situated between two sheer cliffs. Devros had chosen his hideout well. The track they traveled through a narrow gorge was the only approach to the castle. Without ever being seen, a hundred men could hide amid the boulders bordering the gorge and easily pick off anyone attempting an attack.
Four annum past, First Minister Cathor had used this castle as the base of operations for Dramon's rebellion against the upstart DeSanti who sought to wrest power from the rightful king. Two annum ago, just before the slavers began their raids, a ground shake had rendered the castle uninhabitable. With DeSanti defeated and Dramon at peace, Cathor had moved his family and people into the capital city.
Why hadn't Raf thought to check out the abandoned castle? Because no one thought that Devros moved his captives to market from here.
Until a horrific ground shake a hundred annum ago, this same castle had guarded the final pass through the Azul Mountains. The latest ground shake must have opened the long closed passage between Dramon and the unknown lands beyond. This was why none of Devros' captives had escaped to return home. He was selling them into slavery beyond the mountains---and beyond hope.
The party rode into the castle courtyard. A man came out of the castle to meet them. He stood straddle-legged above them at the top of the manor house steps.
Raf recoiled in shock. Dale's look reflected the horror he felt. Fire had ravaged the man's face. Scarred and mottled, his skin stretched taut across his facial bones. Once thick and dark, his hair was reduced to a few gray wisps scattered across his skull. Set like black crystal in his pale face, madness raged in his eyes.
Despite the man's scars, Raf recognized his brother. The image of Stefan Devros' face was burned into Raf's mind. His once handsome features had hid a corrupt ka and an evil heart.
"Welcome, to my kingdom, Raf del Jakar," Devros rasped, in a voice obviously damaged by the blaze that had stolen his male beauty. "I've been expecting you. Laris Tulan take the woman to the infirmary. The rest of you escort our guest to his quarters. If he resists..." His thin lips twisted his abused flesh into a mockery of a smile that did not reach his cold eyes. ".. kill the woman."
Ulger and Treman yanked Raf from the saddle. Arms bound he was unable to stop his fall. His head cracked against the stone paving. His vision blurred, and he watched helplessly as the Belanite dismounted and carried a struggling Dale away.
Hours later, his arms stretched wide and bound above his head by coarse rope and cold stone rubbing against his back, Raf stared at his half-brother.
"How easily you followed the lures into my trap." Devros paced the floor in front of Raf. "Did you really believe I had forgotten you? That I wouldn't recognize you? I knew from the moment I started this slaving operation that you would come to me."
"Why? You killed my father. Destroyed my life. What more do you want from me?"
"Your birth stole everything from me. I want it back."
"You are mad. You betrayed your family out of petty jealousy. Gulfar loved you like a son."
In the dim yellow glow of the one crystal lamp lighting the damp cave, Raf couldn't make out Devros' expression.
"But I was not his son, was I?" Bitterness laced Devros' fire-hoarse voice. "Did he give me his name? His honor? No. I remained his lifemate's bastard. If he'd truly cared for me, he would have claimed me as his firstborn. Instead, he gave what should have been mine to you."
"I don't know why Gulfar didn't give you his name as custom decreed." Perhaps he sensed the evil lurking within the boy, Raf thought. "But he couldn't call you firstborn. Aretian law commands that an adopted child may only be named firstborn if there are no other children born to the couple."
Devros snorted. "Law? What need had Gulfar for lowland city law? He was a mountain rul, lord of all he surveyed. In his pride he wanted a child of his seed to inherit his holdings when he died." He stroked his scarred hand across his face. "Though it cost me dear, I made sure he lived long enough to watch his home burn and to see you and his family reduced to human chattel."
Raf remembered well the moment the loving, trusting child had died and the angry man bent on vengeance was born. Those memories tempered the pity he now felt for Devros.
"And what of our mother? Did you sell her into slavery, too?"
"Not at first," Devros' voice softened. His gaze turned inward. "I had thought to spare her, but she refused to understand my actions were necessary and justified. The she-hound renounced me and ran into the burning house. I followed and earned these scars as my reward."
"Our mother?" Raf repeated.
"She survived unscathed. She spat on me. My associates had to force her to care for my injuries. When I was well enough, I sold her to the Belanites."
"Where is she now?"
"Dead." Remorse flickered in Devros' eyes.
"How did she die?"
"I'm not sure. But Laris Tulan assured me she died happy." Sorrow faded from Devros' eyes. "Belanites have a way of calming and controlling women that other men would pay dearly to learn. How long, I wonder, will it take for him to make your little she-cat purr?"
Raf's gut clenched. As long as he drew breath, no man would touch Dale. He strained uselessly against the ropes binding him to the wall. Lungs burning, muscles screaming, he sagged. Defeat tasted bitter.
"Young Zbar is Tulan's and our mother's son, our half-brother, but he'll never acknowledge the relationship. Only those connected by male bloodlines are considered family." Devros laughed. "Ironic isn't it? Three men have taken my mother and none have ever called me son."
He shrugged. "Tulan brought me word of her death several annum ago. He never related the details of how she died. What does it matter?"
"What of our sisters?" Raf forced himself to control his tongue.
"Last I heard the little sluts were alive and well, happily increasing the Belanite population."
Like angry water worms, rage churned in Raf's belly. Someday, before he ended these miserable creatures' lives, Devros and Tulan would reveal how his mother had died and tell him his sisters' whereabouts.
Wearing nothing but a scratchy sheet, Dale shivered as she looked around the small, clean infirmary. The sterile white environment brought back painful memories of other hospitals. She pushed aside thoughts of the night her father and Steven were killed, and the time she'd recently spent in the hospital with Thea. She forced herself to concentrate on the present. She had to stay focused and find a way out of here.
She feigned the doped, dazed look she'd seen in the women in the compound. She wasn't sure yet how it worked, but the smells the Belanites gave off appeared to drug women into a submissive state. For some reason she had partial immunity. The scents soothed her, but didn't render her mindless or completely complaisant.
Standing next to her bed, neither Devros nor Tulan noticed the way she watched them beneath half-closed eyelids. They talked freely.
Devros' damaged face contrasted sharply with Tulan's appealing blue features. Having spent a lot of time with Cathy at the rehab center, Dale was normally comfortable around the disabled. But she sensed Devros' scars went deeper than his skin and warped his soul.
"Have the healer examine her," Devros told Tulan. "And don't drug the male. I want him aware of everything."
Tulan's odd eyes, now almost completely black, narrowed. "To kill the warrior is best. Dangerous is your plan."
"Do you question my authority here?" Devros asked. "Follow my orders and the women will be yours. Defy me and..." He let his words trail away.
Tulan's mouth tightened into a hard line. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked down at Devros. "And?"
Devros didn't flinch. "The women are your payment for services rendered to me. If you do not provide the service, why should I provide payment?"
"Think you your men, without Belanite help, control can your captives?"
Devros bristled. "You dare to threaten me?"
"Belanites threaten not."
Dale held her breath to keep from gagging against the foul smell Tulan emitted in his anger.
Devros waved his hand. "Don't try and gas me with your stink. I am not a woman to be frightened by a bad smell."
The smell faded as Tulan's body relaxed.
"This argument is futile," Devros continued. "We're partners. Fulfill your duties, and you'll have the women. But I want the man awake and aware. I have a score to settle with him."
"What to you is this man?" Tulan asked.
"Nothing ... everything."
Tulan arched a bushy white eyebrow. "In riddles you speak."
"He's my half-brother."
This was why Shadow was so determined to stop Devros! Dale thought, startled by the revelation.
"Harm you would one of your blood? Your tuni---your father's son?" Tulan's fingers closed around the hilt of his sword.
Devros chuckled. "Easy, Belanite. His mother was mine. I do not share my father's blood with that drot."
Tulan left the room as another Belanite entered.
Though she did her best to remain calm and keep her body limp, she tensed at the feel of the Belanite healer's warm, gentle fingers probing her body. Even her annual physical wasn't this thorough. Having Devros in the room as witness to the humiliation of being touched so intimately grated on her nerves. Though embarrassing, the healer's examination didn't disturb her as much as Devros' avid gaze. He ate her with his stare. She wanted to squirm. Instead, she tried to imagine herself elsewhere. Apparently, she wasn't totally successful. The Belanite's gaze connected with hers.
The healer's hands paused in their intimate travels over her body. "Aware is she."
"Well, turn on your Belanite charm," Devros snapped. "My half-brother claims this woman as his. And what was his is now mine."
A scent like lavender wafted over her. Her thoughts remained clear, but her body relaxed. She let her eyes drift fully shut.
"Calm now is she." The healer continued his examination.
To distance herself from the healer's invasion of her body, she concentrated on formulating an escape plan.
God help her if they discovered her partial immunity to their drugging scents. She needed to find Shadow and get out of this place. Though why she should worry about the infuriating man was beyond her. It was his fault she was here. In fact, her presence on this bizarre world was probably his fault as well. Even as she told herself she'd rescue him because she needed his help to find Thea, she knew it was a lie. She could no more leave him enslaved than she could stop searching for her daughter.
In some inexplicable way Shadow's fate was bound with hers and Thea's.
Finally, the healer finished and tucked the sheet around her.
"Well, is she healthy?" Devros asked.
"Healthy is the female, but..."
"But what?"
"Breeding is she."
Dale barely controlled her startled gasp.
She was pregnant? Why hadn't she considered the possibility? She thought back and realized her period was overdue. Regular as clockwork she was never late, but with everything that had occurred she hadn't noticed.
A baby. Shadow's baby. Familiar emotions tumbled through her---fear, excitement, despair, joy. The same emotions she'd experienced fifteen years ago when she'd learned she was pregnant with Thea.
"The drot!" Devros smacked the examination table with his fist.
Dale flinched then forced herself to be still. The healer's red-black eyes narrowed.
"Abort the moon blighted thing," Devros shouted.
She nearly scrambled off the table. No one was going to kill her baby. His next words stopped her.
"No. Wait. Let me think."
She watched as he paced the small room. Then he began to laugh.
The humorless sound echoed around the room and made Dale grow cold with dread.
"What will she whelp?"
"A boy is the child."
A son? She and Shadow were going to have a son!
"How appropriate. Along with everything else, I will take my half-brother's son. Before I let him die he'll know the despair of seeing his son suffer for his father's sins. Leave us now."
The healer cast a worried look at her.
"Be gone, man. I'll not harm her or the child." Devros shooed the reluctant healer out and shut the door behind him. His thin lips curled in a mockery of a smile as he looked at Dale. "Yet. I have plans for her and the drot's whelp."
He reached out and stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. A cold chill invaded her belly.
Only the knowledge that she'd lose her slim advantage if he realized her awareness helped her maintain her facade of mindlessness. Unsure how she should react to his touch if she were truly under the Belanite's influence, she forced herself to remain totally limp. Better too much than not enough.
His hand moved down her throat to the rise of her breast, then lower to close around it. A frown creased his brow. He jerked his hand away. "Moon blasted Belanite scum. I didn't tell him to render you senseless. Ah well, perhaps it is best. A night spent chained to a stone wall might take some of the fight out of my dear half-brother. In the morn, you'll be less groggy. Then we'll pay your lover a nice visit." He leaned close, his breath moist against her cheek. "All the better if you're alert. There's no excitement in bedding a breathing corpse. But no matter, even if you still stink of Belanite, I'll enjoy taking you while he watches helplessly."
He extinguished all but one small lamp and left the room.
The second the door closed behind him Dale jumped off the examination table. Her clothes were nowhere around. Tying the sheet around her body toga style she quickly scanned the room for a weapon. Apparently the Belanites insisted on a well-stocked infirmary to keep their female stock healthy, because in one drawer she found a lethal looking crystal scalpel.
The room's window overlooked a sheer cliff. No possibility of escape there. Whatever the challenges, she'd have to go out the front door.
Clutching the knife in one hand, she eased the door open a crack and peeked out.
Dale's toes curled against the cold stone floor as she peered into the castle's great hall. On the far side of the hall a fire burned brightly in a huge hearth, but the light didn't reach far. She saw the shape of a young boy slouched by the fire. He looked straight at Dale and their eyes met across the room. Something about the lad's eyes struck a chord of recognition in her. Before she could figure out what, he slipped into the deep shadows blanketing the perimeter of the hall. Other than an occasional snore from the men camped on the room's floor and the crackle of the fire, silence reigned.
She sniffed the air for the distinctive spicy Belanite scent, but she only smelled the rank odor of unwashed men, burned meat and rancid leavings. Apparently, the Belanites slept elsewhere. They probably didn't care for the stench of their partners anymore than she did.
In the gloom, the white sheet she wore would stand out like a banner. She needed clothes. To her left a man rolled over and grunted in his sleep. His pack laid next to him. She eased out of the infirmary and crept along the wall, careful to stay in the shadows. With her foot she snagged the shabby bundle and pulled it toward her. The sound of cloth rasping against stone echoed like a cannon shot to her ears. She froze. No one stirred.
Heart pounding, she clasped the pack to her chest and darted toward the main door. Once there she stopped and stared in horror. A massive board, slipped between two braces, barred the door. Even if she could lift the damned thing, the noise would rouse the whole castle. There had to be another way out.
The heat from the fire didn't warm this far. She shivered and huddled undecided against the wall.
"Psst. Lady."
She jumped at the voice coming out of the darkness. "Who's there?"
"A friend sent me," the sibilant voice whispered. A young Shakar stepped forward. His dark sleek fur blended into the blackness surrounding them. Only his piercing green eyes stood out.
"You're Shakar. Are you from T'Mal's clan? How did you find us? Can you help us escape?"
"These mountains have been our home since before recorded time. Nothing happens here without our knowledge." Despite the Shakar's obvious youth, he spoke with uncanny maturity. "You cannot escape this night. Go back. Be ready to act midmorning on the morrow."
He turned to leave.
"Wait," she cried in a hoarse whisper. "What's going to happen tomorrow? What about Shadow?"
His gaze darted around the hall. A man snorted in his sleep and the young Shakar backed out of the light. "I cannot linger here. If I am seen all will be lost. All will be clear on the morrow." With that he melted into the shadows.
"Why should I trust you?" she whispered.
"Be brave. Trust T'ea." The answer wafted back on the cool night air blowing in through the chinks in the door.
T'ea? Thea was here! Alive. Relief made her knees weak.
Dale started to chase after the boy, but the darkness swallowed him. And if she wasn't careful she'd trip over one of the men littering the floor like so much trash. She didn't want to consider her fate if they woke and found her in their midst.
She crept back the way she'd come, dropping the pack near the sleeping slaver as she passed, and reentered the infirmary. Where could she hide the scalpel?
She doubted Devros was going to allow her much in the way of clothing when they went to see Shadow. Reluctantly, she returned the makeshift weapon to its drawer, and then crawled onto the examination table to try and rest.
A shudder ran through her. Was she foolish to trust this unknown Shakar? Did he really know Thea? Or had she misheard him? What choice did she have? If nothing happened midmorning tomorrow to prevent it, Devros would try and rape her while Shadow watched.
After the total darkness of the cave, the sudden light blinded Raf. He squinted into the glare, while the creatures that had tormented him through the night squealed and scattered into the shadows.
"Awake brother?"
Devros' laugh scraped like ground crystal across Raf's raw nerves. Stripped of all but his trousers and boots and strung up by his arms, he'd survived the night on will alone. The black called out the cave creatures. He'd stood motionless as they crawled over him, their teeth and claws raking his flesh, tasting his blood, knowing if he moved they would ravage him. At one point, deep into the night, he longed to thrash and end his misery.
But worse than the night creatures was his inability to see what surrounded him. His slave master used to beat him senseless and then lock him in the dark, sometimes for attempting to run, and sometimes for his own perverse enjoyment. Darkness drained Raf of strength and courage, leaving him the frightened, shivering slave boy he'd once been. Only his memories of lying wrapped in Dale's embrace had kept the nightmares at bay.
He'd remained still. Dale needed him. He'd failed his father, his mother and his sisters. He wouldn't fail Dale.
"Still alive, too." Devros reached out and flicked away a many-legged hairy insect clamped to Raf's chest.
Blood welled from the spot as the creature scurried off.
"Dear. Dear. I should have left a lamp. Wouldn't want the little buggers to do away with you---quite yet." He hung the lamp on the wall. The soft yellow light cast long flickering shadows in the dim cave.
Raf was sure Devros knew to the exact number how many pests inhabited this pit of Oblivion. Enough to torment, but not enough to kill. He stared past Devros.
"No words of welcome for me this fine morning? I've brought you a visitor. Bring her in."
He sucked in his breath as Tulan led Dale into the cave. The spicy Belanite scent filled Raf's nostrils, but it was the sight of Dale that took his breath away. She wore nothing but a robe, which gaped open from her throat to her navel, exposing the soft creamy, swells of her breasts. The sheer crystal silk clung to her curves like warm haxa cream coated a pitcher. Head drooping, shoulders bent, she leaned against the Belanite, the fire that burned within her doused.
Raf's fists clenched uselessly above his bonds. "What have you done to her?"
"Like this I do not," Tulan said.
Devros snatched Dale from the Belanite. She flopped like a child's rag doll. "You're not paid to like or dislike what I do."
Tulan's eyes flared red. "Promised to us are the women. What do you with her?"
"You're to receive the breedable women. Since this one is already breeding, she doesn't come to you. Her fate is not your concern. Leave. Now."
Breeding? Dale carried his child? Joy exploded inside Raf, followed quickly by fear.
"Since when does a Belanite warrior take orders from dragot dung?" Raf taunted.
Tulan hesitated. His pleasant, calming aroma turned to a sour stink.
"Remember your reward for service, Laris Tulan," Devros reminded softly. "Please leave us now. You have my word, the woman will not be harmed."
"Outside will I wait." Tulan left.
Devros looked at Raf. "Difficult creatures these Belanites, but quite useful. For the cost of a couple dozen women they provide control of the more fractious slaves and safe passage to the slave market. One Belanite warrior is worth a dozen men. And their influence over women is quite amazing, though I do wish Tulan had left a bit more life in this one." He shook Dale. Her head lolled on her shoulders.
Raf bit back a curse. "What do you want?"
For a moment, Devros looked confused and Raf could almost see the young boy Devros had once been. Then his expression hardened and the illusion faded.
"Everything." He leaned close. "At the end, Gulfar begged me for his life. He offered you, your mother, and your sisters if I would but let him live."
Raf lunged. The ropes jerked him short. "You lie! I was there. I saw him die. He begged for nothing."
"Will you beg?"
"Never!" Raf spat at Devros' feet. Like the fires of oblivion, hatred burned in his ka. His fingers itched to close around Devros' neck and squeeze the life from his worthless body.
"Not even for the lives of your woman and son?" Devros thrust Dale in front of Raf.
She sagged limply in Devros' grip.
"She is not my woman, and the child..." Raf shrugged, "I do not claim it." He thought he saw Dale flinch at his casual dismissal of her.
Devros chuckled and slipped his fingers under the silky material covering Dale's full breast. "Now who lies? Beg for her, son of Gulfar. Or shall I kill her now?" His hand slid up her chest. He closed his fingers around her throat and tilted her head back.
A spark flashed in her eyes as they met Raf's. At her sides, her hands fisted. Devros didn't seem to notice the tension coiling in her body, or the way her jaw clenched beneath his hand. Did she feign her drugged state? Were her fighting skills equal to the task of defeating not only Devros, but also the Belanite?
Raf sagged against the ropes. His chest heaved. Once, long ago he'd begged, to no avail, as Devros had destroyed his family. As he watched his father die and his mother and sisters carried off, Raf had vowed never again to beg.
"Not ready yet? Then it is well I gave my word to Tulan not to harm the woman. Considering their lack of respect for the female of the species, Belanites are very protective of them. Besides, I have other plans for her."
Devros untied the belt holding Dale's robe shut. The silky material fell open. Her dusky pink nipples hardened in the chilled air. A tremor rippled over her.
"I'm going to enjoy taking your woman while you watch."
"Do not do this." The words tumbled from Raf's lips, burning through his ka. "I beg...."
"Enjoy this, you pig." In a blur of motion Dale dropped, and her elbow slammed into Devros' belly. He grunted in pain, and doubled over. She turned, grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back and threw him onto the ground. Her foot against the back of his neck pushed his face into the rock and muffled his scream.
She leaned down. "Don't make a sound, or I'll break your neck." She relieved him of his sword and knife, and then cut off a strip of his shirt to tie his hands behind his back. Holding the knife to his throat, she prodded him to roll over. "It never pays to judge your opponent's strength based on size."
"You'll..." he started.
She pressed the blade into his flesh until a thin line of blood welled. "Shhh. Softly. We wouldn't want to alert your guard."
He nodded slowly and continued in a whisper. "You'll never make it out of this cave. Raf is bound. Tulan is only a shout away."
"How can you shout if I cut your throat?"
In the glow of the crystal lamp she appeared an avenging seraph. Beneath the soft drape of the white crystal silk robe that revealed more than it concealed her chest heaved. Exertion flushed her cheeks and chest red. Righteous rage darkened her eyes to indigo blue. With trembling fingers she pressed the blade deeper.
Devros swallowed heavily. Blood dripped down his neck. Deep in the grip of battle lust, she seemed mesmerized by the sight.
Though well-trained in the warrior arts, violence did not come naturally to her. She threatened to kill, but Raf knew if she did so in cold blood, her ka would be forever damaged. Though it cost him his life, he could not let that happen. Let Devros' blood be on his hands.
"Dale," he called softly.
As if in a trance her head came up and her gaze locked with his. Her eyes cleared, and her lips curled up as she shoved a loose rock into Devros' mouth. "That should keep you quiet."
Sputtering, he glared at them.
Tying the robe tight around her, she headed toward Raf. Behind her Devros struggled to his feet. Before Raf could warn her, Devros spat out the rock.
"Guards! Tulan!" he shouted.
Footsteps echoed in the cave.
Dale rushed to Raf.
"Dale, run!" Raf urged.
Sword drawn Tulan entered the cave. With a flick of his wrist he sliced the cloth binding Devros.
"I'll kill the she-hound!" Devros screamed as he snatched Tulan's sword and stumbled toward them.
An explosion rocked the cave. Thrown off balance, Devros lurched backward. Dale stumbled. The sword and knife flew out of her hands. She fell to her hands and knees at Raf's feet. A cloud of dirt, stones and dust rained down on them. A small rock hit the side of Dale's head. She crumpled and lay still.
The ropes that held Raf pulled partially loose. He strained to jerk them free. "Stefan," he shouted above the ominous rumbling. "The cave is collapsing. Get her out of here."
Coughing, Devros struggled to regain his footing as the cave crumbled around them. Ignoring Raf, he reeled toward the entrance. Once there he turned and looked at Raf. His lips curled into a mockery of a smile, and then he ran out.
Screams and cries echoed down the tunnel. The coarse rope cut into Raf's wrists and drew blood as he yanked. Beneath his feet, the floor rocked and cracked, but the rope held fast. He choked on the dust. Another stone fell from the ceiling. It crashed inches from Dale's bent head.
"Dale! Get up! Run!"
Tulan stood in the entrance. His eyes met Raf's and he started forward. The cave shook. With a mighty groan a portion of the ceiling broke loose and fell, blocking the entrance.
Blood dripped from her temple as Dale staggered to her feet. The white robe billowed around her body. She lifted a hand to her mouth.
"Get out of here," Raf ordered.
Her lips twitched. "Still giving orders."
"As you still ignore them. I should have known no mere Belanite could command you."
Picking up the knife, she stepped close to him and reached up toward the rope. Her breasts, bare beneath the robe, brushed against his chest.
"I can't reach your wrists. Brace your foot against the wall," she said.
"What?"
"Don't ask questions. Just do it."
He did as she directed, lifted his knee and braced his foot against the wall.
"Now, hold still."
She gripped his shoulders and climbed up on his raised thigh. Warm and soft, her chest pressed into his face as she reached her arms up over his head.
With each stroke of the knife against the rope her body rubbed his. He was almost disappointed when the last strand of the rope parted and his wrists were free. He stumbled forward, knocking her off balance, but he caught her in his numb arms before she fell.
Another explosion threw them backwards. He hit the wall with a thud, protecting Dale from the impact.
Except for the patter of tiny rocks raining down, silence encompassed them. Through a haze of dust, the crystal lamp struggled to light the cave.
Raf crouched against the wall and cradled Dale until she started to squirm.
The robe twisted around her body, until only her arms remained covered. Near naked, she shivered in his embrace. Even in the faint light of the crystal lamp, he could see the spots of color on her pale cheeks and chest.
"Put me down." She pushed against him.
Reluctantly, he let her slide down his body. She jerked free and pulled the flimsy robe tight around herself. Blood trickled down the side of her face.
"You are hurt." He reached out.
She stepped away and grabbed the lamp from the wall. After all they'd shared, her rejection stung.
"It's nothing. Come on. We have to get out of here before the rest of the mountain comes down on our heads." She shoved the knife into his hands.
He tucked it into the waistband of his trousers. They started toward the back of the cave.
"Ouch." Sharp rock shards littered the floor and cut her feet. Dale gasped as Raf swept her into his arms. His strong, hard body eased the chill from her.
"Do not argue. You cannot walk barefoot. Hold out the lamp."
His logic stilled her automatic protest. Though their situation remained perilous, her tension drained away. With a sigh, she leaned her head on his shoulder. Through the gritty smell of rock, sweat and blood, his warm male scent filled her nostrils. Her head ached from where the stone had struck her.
A fall of rock and debris blocked the entrance through which Devros had fled. They'd never be able to dig their way out.
"Are we trapped?" She held up the lamp and peered into the darkness surrounding them. Were they going to die here? Strangely, the thought didn't trouble her. She felt safe and secure in Raf's arms. Only the thought of leaving Thea alone stirred her from the lethargy stealing through her.
Shadow's head lifted like a wolf sniffing the wind for prey. "I think not. Feel the air?" A strand of dust-covered hair wafted from the side of his head as a gust of air parted the haze. "We will follow the current. There must be another opening."
Sporadic tremors vibrated through the cave as he headed into a dark passageway leading from the main cavern. Hours passed. The tunnels led deep into the mountain, twisting, branching and turning endlessly. Shadow's skin felt cold and clammy against hers, but sweat dripped down his face. Blood crusted the tiny wounds covering his chest and arms. His breathing sounded harsh and labored. Neither of them spoke. The faint lamplight flickered erratically, illuminating the damp crystal walls around them in an eerie greenish glow. The tremors and the breeze had long since died. They wandered aimlessly.
"Shadow." Dale stirred in his arms. "Stop. You have to rest. We're lost."
Shadow lurched to a halt. Keeping one arm around her waist, he let her slide to the ground. A stream of icy water flowed over her feet. Head bent, he leaned heavily against the wall.
Shivering, she stepped back, held up the lamp and gasped. Scratches and bite marks covered Shadow's chest and arms. Had whatever bitten him left its poison behind to kill him? Had a spinner bitten him? She held the lamp close looking for the telltale ulceration and sighed with relief. Though bruised and swollen the wounds were not infected.
She stroked his cheek. He lifted his head to look at her. A faint, sad smile touched his lips.
"I am sorry, my beautiful Gift of the Valley Dweller. My foolish pride and thirst for revenge have killed you," he rasped. He curled his hand behind her head and lowered his face to hers. His lips felt cool and dry against hers. He wasn't running a fever.
Dale grabbed his arms as his knees buckled, and he started to slide down the wall. His weight bore her with him onto his lap. The lamp tumbled from her grip into the shallow stream and sputtered out. In the darkness, Dale felt Shadow's violent shudder, then he went limp beneath her.
"Shadow! Damn you, Raf del Jakar, don't you die on me." His true name echoed hollowly through the tunnel as she felt frantically for his pulse. Sticky blood covered his wrists, but his pulse beat steadily beneath her fingers. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself against his chest, trying to give him some of her warmth, but the thin robe she wore did little to keep out the damp tunnel air. Her toes grew numb where the stream flowed over them.
She curled her legs under her away from the cold water and leaned her head against Raf's chest. When had he stopped being the mysterious, aggravating Shadow and become Raf, the man? When he rushed to the rescue of the captive Shakar? When he made sweet love to her? When had he become important to her? When had she fallen in love with him?
His steady breathing warmed her forehead and stirred her tangled, dirty hair. His heart beat a solid rhythm under her cheek. Relief rushed through her. He was asleep, not dying.
But if she didn't do something soon, they would die here. But what could she do in the dark?
Dark? She blinked and realized she could see. The cave around her took shape in an odd blue light. She reached out and ran her hand over the shimmering wall. Her fingers left a bright trail of shining blue light in the soft moss covering the walls. With each passing moment her eyes continued to adjust until her vision snapped into focus. Though everything appeared in shades of blue, she could see.
She scrambled to her knees at Raf's side. "Raf, wake up." When he didn't respond she patted his cheeks with water from the stream.
He flinched and groaned.
"Damn it all, Raf del Jakar. Wake up!"
"I am awake," he muttered, his eyes blinking open. "There is no need to shout."
"Come on, we have to get moving to keep warm."
"Leave me."
"Are you crazy? There's no way I'm leaving you here. Get up."
"Night creature venom is in my blood. I may all ready be dying. I will hold you back. The snow melting above drains through the mountain tunnels. If you follow the stream upward, it should lead you out."
"You're hardly dying." Oh, how she prayed that was true. He did look and sound stronger. "And if I find my way out of this maze alone, what then? How far do you think I'll get on my own, especially dressed like this." She plucked at the transparent damp silk clinging to her body.
He grinned. "I imagine you would do fine. But perhaps I should accompany you to protect the other guy."
"Yeah, right. Whatever." She put her shoulder under his arm and urged him up. "I could use a little help here. You're dead weight."
Leaning heavily on her, he lurched to his feet. "That is what I fear."
"Ha, ha. Now you're a comedian."
They moved at a slow but steady pace through the dim blue tunnels. Dale found if she kept to the stream her numb feet didn't feel the bite of the rocks. Aside from her feet, the exertion and Raf's arm around her shoulders warmed her. Though still weak, his strength was returning along with his take-charge attitude. She didn't protest as he guided her faltering steps. Instead of leaning on her, his arm now kept her upright.
Gradually, the blue glow diminished and natural light began to filter in through small crevices. The stream disappeared. A warm mist crept along the ceiling and the tunnel took on a sultry feel. For the first time, she noticed that the rock beneath her feet was no longer cold. Instead, it was warm. The air smelled of sulfur. Her feet ached as they began to thaw.
Ahead, she saw daylight. An opening appeared. She peered out of the cave at the watery sunlight filtering through a sparkling waterfall. As the cold mountain runoff hit the heated water a heavenly steam rose from the bubbling pool. Thick with minerals, the water was an opaque blue-green.
"A thermal spring. We can bathe here." Raf led her around the fall of chilly water to the side of the hot spring. "We are fortunate. This pool is fed by the fires below and is heavy with minerals. Without the runoff from the melting mountain snow the water would be too hot to bathe."
Bright sunlight warmed her head and shoulders. Gently, he peeled away her dirty robe until she stood naked before him. Suddenly shy she covered her chest with her arms. "How can you bear to look at me after Devros almost ... after I nearly..." Words failed her as tears sprang into her eyes.
He stroked the tears from her cheeks and lifted her face to his. "Nothing Devros did could change my feelings for you. Did he harm you?"
For a moment she'd considered killing Devros in cold blood. Only Raf's gentle gaze had stilled the rage inside her. She longed to ask, What do you feel for me? Desire? Love?"
Instead, she said, "No. He only touched me because he thought it would hurt you. When I pretended to be under the Belanite's influence, he wasn't interested."
"Thank Ahra, guardian of Eternity. You are beautiful and brave and strong. Thank you."
Startled, she stared into his dark eyes, unable to read the emotions hidden in their depths. "For what?"
"For saving my life. For being you." He slid his hand down her body to rest on her still flat belly, and his gaze locked with hers. "For being the mother of my son."
She covered Raf's warm fingers with her own. The idea hit her like a body blow. A son. They were going to be parents together. A memory of Steven touching her belly in the same way made her smile sadly. Was she doomed to raise this child alone, too?
She pulled away, breaking the connection. Her bond with Raf went beyond the child growing in her womb. "What can I say? Your life is here. Mine is on another world, with Thea. If I don't find her and take her home, she'll die. She needs medical help that's just not available here."
"And what of the child you carry? Will you risk the life of one child to save the other?"
When she didn't answer Raf turned away. She watched as he stripped off his boots and trousers, and then he disappeared silently beneath the water.
A few moments later, his hair slick against his well-shaped skull, his broad chest and shoulder gleaming in the sunlight, he rose in a shower of glittering diamonds.
Not trying to hide the desire in his eyes, he stretched out his arm. "Come. The hot spring water will ease the chill and aches from your body.
She hesitated, her nipples puckering in anticipation as his hungry gaze raked over her. Her body responded blindly to his unspoken offer. Once she joined him there'd be no turning back. She'd belong to him body and soul.
"Grant me this small bit of time. Do not make me beg," he said softly.
Who was she trying to kid? Even though her mind told her they had no future together, that loving a warrior would only cause her pain, he already owned her heart. When the time came how would she bear leaving him?
Ducking her head to avoid his all too knowing eyes, she slipped quickly into the pool's concealing depths. She gasped in shock as the warm liquid flowed over her chilled flesh. Then with a sigh of pleasure, she closed her eyes.
Raf came up behind her, and pressed his chest against her back. Hotter and harder than the surrounding water and rock, his arousal nudged between her thighs. Whatever else happened, she wanted this. She started to turn to face him, but he put his hands on her waist and held her in place.
Startled, she swiveled her head to look up into his face. "What?"
He touched her ear with his lips and whispered, "Do not speak. Do not consider the future or the past. Think only of the now. Pretend this is the First Garden created by Ahra, before the Evil One's corruption entered. Look around at the beauty."
She let her gaze follow the sweep of his hand. Surrounded on three sides by crystal blue mountains the hot spring was perched on a plateau overlooking an idyllic blue-green valley. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the valley and warmed her face. Across the entrance to the tunnels a waterfall cascaded into the spring, a shimmering veil of frothy blue-white. Off the side of the plateau, the spring's overflow formed another waterfall into the valley. As if sprinkled with minute aqua diamonds, crystals glittered along the edges of the spring. Masses of tiny, powder-blue flowers perfumed the air and lessened the pool's mineral odor, while bird song and the hum of insects filled the silence.
"Let Ahra's creation please your ka." Moist breath brushed her cheek. "Let me please your body, Tiguer."
"Raf, I don't think..." she tried again to turn in his arms.
He wrapped a strong arm around her waist and held her still. "Shhh. For this moment, in this place we are not two strangers from different worlds, whom circumstances will soon force apart, but merely a man and a woman. Do not think---feel."
Made buoyant by the water, and held up by Raf, her feet dangled free. Her head rested on his shoulder. He stroked a hand up her side and around the curve of her breast. She groaned and arched her back to give him easier access. Her nipples broke the surface. Like silky black seaweed his hair floated on the opaque water and brushed the sensitized nubs. A tremor coursed through her. He rolled one nipple then the other between his fingers.
Then his hand trailed down her body and over her belly to the juncture of her thighs. Boneless with desire she spread her legs to his tender invasion. With a gentle touch he opened her. His fingers found and circled the seat of her passion. Her legs thrashed sluggishly in the heavy water as spasms of pleasure rippled through her. But it wasn't enough. She twisted helplessly in his grip, struggling to turn.
"Raf, please. Let me touch you. I want you inside me---now!"
"Patience, Tiguer."
She moaned in protest when he paused his rhythmic stroke. Then she gasped as he lifted her and brought her down upon his shaft. Her buttocks fit snugly into the hollow between his hard thighs. Like a flaming brand his heat surged deep inside her. Naked and vulnerable beneath the open sky, she accepted him into her body, her mind and her heart. Her head fell back and her gaze locked on his.
Eyes narrowed in concentration, he began a slow and steady rocking motion. With one hand he held her against him. With the other he reached down and continued his assault on her senses. Each movement, each touch sent waves of delight through her.
Still it wasn't enough. She pulled away and turned in his arms until they faced each other.
Lifting her arms, she tangled her fingers in his wet hair and tugged his face to hers. Soft and slick, his lips settled over hers. With a low moan she accepted the thrust of his body into hers.Running her tongue over the hard surface of his teeth, she then delved into the moist warm depths of his mouth, tasting him. He pulled her tongue in deeper, forcing her to twist and strain upward to oblige him.
She arched closer. Blood pounded in her tongue as he suckled there. Lower down he throbbed deep inside her as she pulsed around him.
Fed by a hot mineral spring and runoff from mountain snow, the water swirled around them hot then cool, warm then icy. She shivered.
Before she could voice a protest, Raf slipped from inside her, lifted and laid her on the moss-covered bank. She stared up as he hovered over her. Like tears, water dripped from his hair onto her breasts. She ached with emptiness.
She reached up and tucked a wet strand of hair behind his well-shaped ear. "I have to find Thea. I have to take her home."
He pressed his cheek into her palm. "We will find her on the morrow. This time is ours." His dark gaze searched hers.
"Yes," she whispered.
Cool and soft as velvet, the blue-green moss cushioned her as his weight settled between her open thighs.
Slick with passion, her body accepted him easily. Locked in each other's embrace they forgot everything but each other. She arched to meet his powerful thrusts as they found their release. Later, as the sun set over the valley, Dale sat beside Raf and watched him sleep. Reaching out, she stroked his now dry hair away from his face and studied him. Shuttered with sleep, his eyes didn't demand and command. His chiseled features looked softer, younger, more vulnerable, almost childlike.
Would their son resemble him? Thea looked nothing like Steven, with his sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. Hardly able to believe she carried another life, she touched her flat belly.
How could she take away Raf's son? Possibly risk his life by transferring back to Earth and undergoing surgery? What choice did she have? Staying here or delaying the transplant surgery condemned Thea to death.
With a sigh, Dale dragged her gaze away from Raf and stared unseeingly at the sunset blazing across the sky. Constantly swirling and shifting with the wind, purple, red and pink clouds streaked the darkening sky. Long shadows crept across the valley toward them. The breeze cooled as the sun sank below a distant mountain ridge. Dressed in the thin silk robe, Dale shivered, pulled knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them.
Lying next to her, Raf's body radiated warmth. She longed to curl up next to him, but after their brief passion flared and faded, he'd withdrawn. Face shuttered, he'd dressed and lain down apart from her.
Though she knew they had to part eventually, his desertion hurt.
How would she survive when she left him?
The same as she survived when her father and Steven were taken from her. And when Cathy disappeared. Thea needed her then and she needed her now.
Honesty forced her to admit that losing Raf would be harder than losing Steven had been. Her love for Steven had been a young girl's love. They'd shared a childhood, easing from friendship to love without realizing it. If he hadn't died they would have grown contentedly old together.
What she'd felt for Steven and what she now felt for Raf were as different as a soft summer rain shower from a pounding thunderstorm. Steven had always been in her life. Until he was gone, she couldn't remember a time when he wasn't there. Raf had burst into her life like a streak of lightning---brilliant, powerful and overwhelming. He'd battered her defenses until he was buried deep inside her heart.
Though her feelings for Steven and Raf were as different as Earth and Tareth, they were both warriors. Warrior men might be exciting lovers, but they couldn't provide the calm security she craved and Thea needed.
Once she found Thea, they had to return to Earth. No matter what her heart wanted, she didn't have the right to deny Thea her world and the life it offered. Did Raf even want her to stay? Though his passion for her was undeniable, he'd never mentioned the future or what it might hold for them.
No, she couldn't risk Thea's future to satisfy her own selfish needs. But what did the son growing inside her need? Would his life have to be sacrificed to save Thea's?
Closing her eyes, she rested her head on her knees and sought the comfort of sleep.
Through half closed eyelids Raf could almost read the emotions chasing across Dale's face. Longing. Sorrow. Fear. Determination. His little tiguer's heart was strong but soft. Dressed in the stained and wrinkled crystal silk robe, her hair a wild tangle of pale gold around her head, she appeared a battered seraphim who had flown too close to the sun, singed her wings, and fallen helplessly into the realm of man.
When her eyes closed and her head bent to her knees, he touched the shard of milk crystal in his pocket. After she found her daughter, Raf knew Dale would leave him. She belonged to another world.
Ash spoke little of his time away from Tareth, but if what Raf had gleaned was true, Dale's world was one of many wonders. How could he ask her to remain on Tareth? To give up her life, sacrifice her daughter's life to be with him, when he had little to offer her?
His life as Master-of-Arms to Prince de Gar, while satisfying, was not conducive to family life. Though Ash often tried to reward Raf with coin and land, pride made Raf refuse to accept more than his pay from his friend and lord.
Over the years he had saved and invested his funds carefully. He would never be a wealthy man, but eventually he would be comfortable. But could he give up the life he loved to become a gentleman farmer, woolie herder, or merchant?
He gave a silent, strangled laugh
He could not let Devros remain free. Nor could he ignore the plight of the slaves. Once Thea was found, he would see Dale and the child safe, and then he would return to capture Devros and destroy his slaving operation, or he'd die in the attempt.
The sunset faded. Darkness settled over the valley and stars started to peek out of the violet sky. A cool breeze wafted over them. Dale shivered and whimpered in her sleep. Raf chided himself for his lack of care. Quickly he gathered brush and dried moss for a fire. Using the milk crystal shard against a piece of indigo rock he struck a spark and lit a fire.
When the fire blazed, throwing off waves of heat, he used the sweetly scented branches from the surrounding bushes to build a shelter. His stomach rumbled loudly.
"Hungry?" Dale's eyes glowed deep purple in the firelight.
"Devros' hospitality leaves much to be desired," Raf said. "I dug some tubers. They're roasting in the fire. Though bland, they are filling."
Dale scooted closer to the fire. "My stomach's so empty, right now, I'd eat worms."
"That can be arranged, but they are an acquired taste. Cave worms digest rock. Toasted over the fire they are quite---crunchy. Some spinmasters consider them delicious, until their teeth wear away." Raf smiled at her grimace.
"The tubers will be fine."
She sat cross-legged next to him. Like the frilly spikes of toca plant her pale hair, coated with minerals from the pool, stuck up around her head. She leaned toward the flames. Firelight bathed her skin with a rosy glow. His breath caught in his throat as her robe gaped open at the neck and between her spread thighs, revealing smooth expanses of creamy skin and a triangular shadow of pale hair. Desire surged unbidden and unwanted.
"Who is Stefan to you?" The question slipped out.
She looked startled. A shadow crossed her face. "What?"
"You spoke his name while you were ill and.... "He stopped, unable to tell her she had murmured it after they had made love the first time. "Stefan is Devros' name," he finished.
Her shoulders sagged and she nodded slowly. "And you thought I knew him, thought I was working with him." She hugged herself. "Steven was my husband's name."
"How did he die?" She didn't object when he pulled her close and tucked her against his chest.
"Steven and my father were both city cops---local authorities for the government," she explained the unknown word. "After Thea was born we decided we didn't want her growing up on the mean streets of Chicago, so we moved to a small town where it was safer. Ha! Bad things don't just happen in bad places. Steven and Dad were on a domestic disturbance call. Some drunk was beating up on his wife---again.
"It was so useless. So stupid. They'd been out to that house a dozen times before. They'd always take the drunk in and lock him up for the night. The wife always refused to press charges. She'd just show up the next day to bail him out.
"Only this time he had a gun. When Steven and Dad answered the call, the drunk started shooting." She trembled and her voice broke.
Dale turned in Raf's arms and clung to him. Raf held her while harsh sobs racked her slim body. The depth of her grief, after so many years, told Raf these were her first real tears for her father and her husband. Despite her claims of hunger she cried herself to sleep.
He continued to hold her, only stopping briefly to pull the tubers from the fire before they burned beyond edibility. Come morning they would both need food.
After banking the fire, he lay down next to her and curled himself around her.
Exhaustion hung over him like a rain-heavy storm cloud, but sleep would not come. Dale had lost one lifemate to the violence of his chosen profession. Could Raf ask her to risk her heart on another man who also chose to tempt fate each day?
A loud shriek jolted Dale from sleep. Ignoring her protesting muscles, she bolted up and glanced around. Nothing stirred. Other than the splash of the waterfall, the pool sat placid in the morning sun. Embers from last night's fire glowed red, waiting to be fed the small pile of wood stacked next to it. Overhead, the sky was a deep blue, the sun a fiery yellow ball.
The valley spread out below appeared undisturbed and peaceful. Even without the Shakar boy's words, Dale knew Thea was close. She could sense her presence. Soon they'd be reunited. Though she knew they had to return to Earth, Dale couldn't help wishing there was a way for her to stay in this beautiful world with Raf.
Raf was nowhere around, but several leaf-wrapped, roasted tubers rested on a flat rock near the fire. She opened one of the now cool tubers and ate it. Though bland and mealy the tuber eased the sharp ache in her stomach. Now, if she could only find a way to ease the ache in her heart as easily.
She shrugged out of the dirty robe, washed it in the hot spring water and laid it over a bush. The warm sun and soft breeze would quickly dry the deceptively sturdy material. It felt oddly liberating to sit naked in the open air.
Another shriek pierced the air. Dale looked up as a familiar feathered form dived toward her.
"Ava!"
Dale stood and held up her arm. Wings spread, legs extended, Ava aimed for Dale's arm.
"Ava, no!" As Ava swooped down, Raf slammed into Dale's side and carried her to the ground.
Irate, Ava squawked and settled on the branch of a nearby bush.
"Get off me." Dale spat moss and dirt from her mouth, and pushed against Raf. "What on Earth are you doing?"
Raf sat up, pulling her with him. "Ava's talons would have shredded your arm. She does not always realize the danger she poses, but you should have more sense."
Dale shuddered. Raf was right. Ava's inch long talons were lethal. "Thanks." The feel of him pressing her into the soft, moss-covered ground brought a rush of memories. The hot look in Raf's eyes told her he remembered also. Suddenly conscious of her nakedness, she stood and grabbed up her robe. The damp material didn't cool the heat flooding her body at Raf's hot gaze.
"Here." Raf thrust some clothing into her hands.
"Where did you get this stuff?" she asked as she quickly donned the shirt, pants and sandals he'd given her. The clothing, though old, seemed clean and sturdy. Dressed, she felt less vulnerable to her feelings for Raf and more capable of finding Thea.
She looked up at him. He wore a faded shirt and cloak, and a sword hung in a sheath at his waist along with two daggers.
"We are not far from Devros' stronghold." Raf crouched by the fire and stirred the embers. "The tunnel turns back on itself through the mountain. The castle is just beyond that ridge."
"You went back there?" Her heart twisted at the thought. "What if you'd been caught?"
"There was little chance of that. I am not called Shadow without reason. But I did not know it was there. I merely scouted the area." His cocky male grin made him look like a mischievous little boy.
"And the clothing?"
His grin vanished, replaced by a dark scowl. "The owners will no longer need them. The compound is in chaos. An explosion triggered the ground shakes."
"T'Nar."
"Who?"
"A young Shakar boy. The night before last, he sneaked into the castle. I think he's T'Mal's son. The Shakar must have set off the explosion as a diversion. I don't know how or why, but Thea is with them. I have to find her."
"We will find her." He covered her hand with his own.
His touch warmed her, and his words comforted her. Together they would find Thea.
"Little is left of the castle," he continued. "The walls have all crumbled."
"The captives? Were they hurt?" She remembered her brief glimpse of them, as Tulan carried her inside the castle. They'd been corralled like animals in pens in the castle courtyard.
"They are bruised and battered, but none seriously." Raf's tone hardened. "The slavers inside the castle were not so fortunate. Many were killed when the walls crumbled on top of them. Others are badly injured. Of Devros' men, only the ten outside guards are still fit."
"Devros?"
Raf shook his head. "He is uninjured."
"Tulan?"
Raf shot her a sharp look. "You are concerned for the Belanite's safety?"
"No. Yes. I don't know." She wasn't sure just what her feelings for the Belanite were. "He was kind."
Raf snorted. "I do not think you would like a lifetime of Belanite kindness. He and his son are unharmed. But, while caring for the injured, the Belanite healer was killed during the second shake." Raf finished dousing the fire and stood. "If I am to stop Devros and rescue the captives, I must hurry. The ground shakes threaten to close the pass through the mountains. Devros' is preparing to leave with the captives. If they are taken through the pass they will be forever lost."
A sharp squawk drew their attention to Ava. Wings flapping, the bird perched precariously on a slender branch of a nearby bush.
"Ava."
At Raf's call, she hopped to the ground and stalked over to Dale's side.
"It appears she's still mad at you." Chuckling, Dale stroked the bird's ruffled feathers.
"Fickle female," Raf muttered.
"Raf, there's something attached to her leg." Dale slipped off the tightly wound piece of parchment and handed it to Raf.
A smile curled his lips as he silently read the missive.
"Well, what does it say?"
Raf looked up. "Ava fulfilled her purpose on this mission. When you disappeared she took word to my contacts in Dramon. King Timon is sending in troops."
"And just how did she tell your contacts where we are?"
"High Minister Cathor's lifemate, Sianna is highly empathic. She is able to sense Ava's emotions and thoughts."
"But if Ava left when I disappeared, how could she know this place?"
"I do not know for sure. Perhaps the high minister has also thought of his former castle. If he sends word he is coming, I have no doubt he will arrive."
"But will he be here in time to save the captives?"
"I will make sure he has the time. When I return, we will search for your daughter." He handed her one of the daggers.
She stuck the knife into her waistband, placed her hands on her hips, and faced him. "I'm going with you."
"No. A battlefield is not a safe place for you ... or our son. Devros is my brother. I must bring him to justice for his crimes."
Fear and frustration stiffened her resolve. "With or without your permission, I'm coming along. I quit waiting when Steven died. What if you don't come back?"
Either Raf was oblivious or he chose to ignore her.
"If I do not return by nightfall, wait until morning, then let Ava lead you down the mountain to Dolan's farm. He will take you to High Minister Cathor, who will see you safely to Prince Ash. Once there, Zard Akester will know how to send you home. Take this as well."
Dale stared at the small shard of milky crystal Raf slipped into her hand. Warmed by his body heat, the crystal burned away her last hope that they might find a way to be together.
At a branch's sharp crack, Raf thrust Dale behind him and pulled his sword. Something burst out of the bushes. Before he could stop her, Dale rushed forward.
"Thea!"
"Mom!"
Laughing, crying and talking, oblivious to the world around them, the two came together.
Ava, disturbed by the young woman's sudden presence, took to the air and circled, cawing her displeasure.
Despite the yellow tinge to her skin and eyes---evidence of her illness---this younger version of Dale took Raf's breath away. Her well-worn clothing---a simple white shirt and faded blue pants---hugged a slender but rounded figure. Long, moon-blond hair cascaded like crystal silk over the rise of her breasts to her slim hips.
As Raf started to sheath his sword, he became aware of the Shakar behind him. He turned.
"T'Mal."
"Shadow."
A young Shakar stood at T'Mal's side. Though Raf couldn't see them he could sense the presence of more Shakar. He looked around and then lifted an eyebrow in question.
"Sheath your sword, human. We are here to assist you," T'Mal said. "You and your mate risked your lives to rescue T'ala and me and because of a human child's bravery my saar, my son T'Nar is restored to me." He nodded at the Shakar child standing at his side. His voice grew husky. "R'Ken told me of T'Sela. Thank you for your efforts. The Shakar have ignored the slavers and the evil they do in our mountains for too long. It is time they were stopped. Whether human or Shakar, no man should own another."
"We welcome your help. How many men do you have?"
"Six. The raids on our villages have been devastating."
And apparently not all the Shakar were as willing as T'Mal to risk their lives meddling in what they considered human affairs. "That gives us eight to their twenty or so, of which, ten are uninjured by the ground shake."
"What of the captives? There must be thirty men and another twenty women and children. Can they not help?"
"The men have been kept drugged. When I was in the compound, I learned that the sedative was destroyed when the castle collapsed. The captives were growing agitated, and there is no longer a guard. Ulger died without a whimper. I opened the gate, but we cannot count on their assistance. The women are controlled by the Belanites."
T'Mal's hackles bristled. "Belanites," he spat. "Furless, womanless blue aberrations. They will rue the day they dared trespass on Shakar territory."
"Raf, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Theadora," Dale interrupted.
Raf turned.
"My friends call me Thea." Thea held out her hand and smiled at him. "Mom's told me how you've helped her. I hope we'll be friends."
Though as tall as her mother, Thea was yet a child hovering on the brink of womanhood. Filled with an innocent intelligence, her eyes reflected the blue of the surrounding mountains and met his gaze without flinching. Her inner beauty glowed through the aura of illness hovering over her. And like her mother, her strength of will charmed and frightened him. It would take an exceptional man to claim this woman.
Raf lifted the girl's slender fingers and gripped the hilt of his sword with his other hand. He inclined his head over her hand. "You do me honor. My sword is ever at your call, my lady."
Her sudden giggle and blush revealed her youth.
Raf hid his answering smile and turned his attention back to T'Mal and the other Shakar.
"Devros is planning to move the captives through the pass before nightfall. King Timon of Dramon is sending troops, but I do not know when they will arrive. We must find a way to delay Devros. Have you a plan?"
T'Mal grinned and pulled a bag from his pack. "Perhaps we can prevent him from ever leaving. Our T'ea is quite resourceful."
"What is this substance?" Puzzled, Raf looked at the gritty, black powder inside the bag.
"It's Tareth's version of gunpowder." Thea took the bag from T'Mal. He stepped away to talk with his men.
"Thea!" Dale sounded shocked.
"Gunpowder? What does it do?" Raf asked. Dale had spoken of her husband being killed by a powerful weapon called a gun. Did gunpowder power this weapon? What other wonders did Dale's world have?
"It causes death and destruction." Dale stared in horror at her daughter. "You know how I feel about guns. Just because you know how to do something, doesn't mean you should."
Thea's smile faded. "Aw, Mom." At that moment she sounded very young and unsure. Then her voice grew firm. "I didn't build a gun. We needed something to create a diversion in the castle. It was just a small explosion."
At that moment, Raf saw Dale reflected in Thea's stubborn expression.
"That explosion set off the ground tremors. We were almost buried alive. Worse, you could have been hurt or killed." Dale shuddered at the thought of how close she might have come to losing her daughter.
"I know what I'm doing," Thea insisted. "Now we can use it to close off the pass."
"Thea, this isn't our fight. We need to get home. How long has it been since your last treatment?"
"Your mother is right. Leave now," Raf said.
His easy acceptance of her leaving sent a pain through her heart.
"I'm fine, Mom. There's time and, well, other things." Thea hesitated and looked at T'Nar standing with his father. "We can't leave here without helping these people. You know it's the right thing to do."
How wise Thea sounded. Dale fought an inner battle with her need to protect her daughter and her desire to help Raf free Devros' slaves.
Raf stood silent, his face an impassive mask.
Finally she sighed and asked, "Who's going to set the charges?"
"I will."
"No. It's too dangerous. Show someone else how to do it."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mom." Thea's voice dropped to a near whisper. "It's bad enough I've introduced gunpowder to this world. But when I saw you with those men, I was desperate. So far I'm the only one who knows how to make it or how it works."
"You can show me how to set the charges."
"No!" Raf shouted.
Dale and Thea jumped.
As if in answer, the ground groaned and rumbled. Overhead churning gray clouds now darkened the sky.
The ground bucked and heaved like an angry bull determined to toss them. Dale struggled to keep her balance and her hold on Thea. Raf started toward them. From above, Ava's piercing calls added to the confusion.
"Look out!" T'Nar yelled and lurched across the rippling ground.
Dale looked up and gasped. A large boulder tumbled down the mountainside.
Before Raf could reach them, T'Nar shoved Thea out of the path of the boulder. The ground heaved beneath their feet. Dale and T'Nar stumbled in the other direction into Raf. He caught them as they fell. Their weight carried him down as well. Wrapping them in his arms, he cushioned their fall with his body.
Seconds later the boulder crashed into the pool. Water erupted into the air. A shower of heated water rained on them along with an avalanche of small rocks and dirt. Then the world settled back to stillness. The exposed skin on Dale's arms and face grew red, but didn't blister. She flinched as Raf took her arm and helped her to her feet. T'Mal assisted T'Nar.
Coughing, Dale peered through a cloud of hissing steam. Gone was the idyllic spot where she and Raf had made love so sweetly.
Buried under a mountain of rock and dirt, the waterfall no longer cascaded over the tunnel entrance. Hot water wilted the flowering bushes and turned the moss-covered ground to a sticky sludge of muddy vegetation. Spraying from beneath the boulder, a thick stream of scalding water cut them off from Thea.
"Thea! Are you okay?" Dale called.
"I'm fine." Thea waved to them from the far side of the now capped pool.
"You're burned," Raf touched a reddened patch on Dale's exposed skin.
"Just slightly."
"I'm going to climb over the boulder." Thea said.
Dale could just make out Thea starting toward them.
"No!" T'Mal shouted. "It is too dangerous."
"Take the trail behind you," Raf said. "It leads back to the castle. We will meet you there. Be careful."
Dale rounded on Raf. "She can't go there. What if Devros or his men see her?"
"There is no choice. She cannot come to us and we cannot reach her. We have to get out of here. The pressure is building. The hot spring is about to geyser."
Ava dived toward them. With a sharp shriek of warning she landed on Raf's shoulder. He staggered slightly at her weight, and then accepted the bird's return to his side.
Below their feet the ground rocked. "But...."
"Come. It is not safe here." Raf took her arm and steered her away.
Dale hesitated, but Thea had already disappeared. Fear hurried her steps. She wouldn't lose her daughter again.
The ground continued to shake and roll as they made their way over the ridge to the castle. Rocks tumbled down the mountainside, which shifted treacherously beneath their feet. As much as she longed to run, Dale knew they had to proceed cautiously. A single misstep would send them to their death.
Aside from the crunch of falling rock and the grumble of the angry ground, there was little sound. No birds sang or insects chirped. They held their breath, waiting, hoping the mountain's anger would fade and it would settle back into slumber. Ominous dark clouds churned overhead, ready to weep wrathful tears.
At times in the growing gloom, Dale lost sight of the Shakar. Agile and used to their mountain home they had less difficulty navigating the rocky mountainside.
Since they had left the spring, Raf avoided her. He ranged ahead, marking the trail for them to follow, leaving her in T'Mal's care. The sight of Ava circling above marked his general location.
Though she knew it was for the best---soon they would part---her heart cried out to spend whatever last moments they could together. Loving a warrior was painful. She thought she'd learned that lesson years ago, but Raf had stormed the carefully constructed walls around her heart and taken it captive. No matter which world she lived in, her heart would forever be his.
Tears blurred her vision. She stumbled. Only T'Mal's hand on her elbow kept her from falling to her knees.
"Thanks."
"Do not worry. Our saara, daughter, is safe. T'Nar would know if she were in any danger."
Dale stared at T'Mal. In the few minutes she'd had with Thea, Dale had sensed a difference about her. "Why do you call Thea your daughter?"
Incredulous, Dale listened as T'Mal briefly explained the unusual dual childhood of Shakar children.
"To save his life, T'ea accepted T'Nar's female spirit into herself. In doing so she became his hapala, his sister, and my saara." T'Mal still gripped her arm. He turned her to him and lifted her chin with his knuckles. The soft fur on his fingers felt like velvet against her skin. "As the mother of my child you are now of my clan. You are ever welcome at my hearth fire."
"I'm honored, T'Mal. I will always remember the Shakar with affection and respect."
A puzzled look crossed T'Mal's face. "You are leaving?"
"Thea and I must return home."
"No." The thick mane around his face fluttered in the growing wind. "It is not possible. T'ea cannot be separated from T'Nar. They are bonded. Apart they will wither and die. Until the time she and T'Nar mature and choose lifemates, she must stay with the Shakar."
"But we have to go back to Ear ... home. We can't stay here."
"Why not?"
"Thea is very ill. To live she needs an operation. One I doubt could be performed here. If we stay here, she'll die. And now you tell me that if we leave here, she'll die." She put her hand into her pocket and gripped the crystal shard. A tingle of electricity surged up her arm. Soon, the storm brewing overhead would provide a conduit home. She let the crystal slip out of her fingers and leaned into T'Mal's gentle embrace. "What should I do?"
"Have faith. Perhaps there is another way. The bond between Shakar litter mates is often miraculous."
"Can it cure Thea illness?" Dale stomped hard on the flicker of hope T'Mal's words lit inside her. She'd been disappointed too many times.
"I don't know."
"The castle is just over that rise."
Raf's voice made her try and jerk away from T'Mal. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her toward Raf. She met Raf's stormy glare. Warmth crept up her neck and into her cheeks.
"Release Dale," Raf told T'Mal.
"And if she does not wish to be released?" T'Mal asked.
Raf gave a low growl. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. The air crackled with tension.
Perched on Raf's shoulder, Ava spread her wings and gave a hissing cry.
T'Mal snarled back at the bird.
Like two dogs, with a bone neither really wanted, they challenged each other. Men!
She wiggled out from under T'Mal's arm. "If you two are done with your pissing contest, can we get going?" She stomped away from T'Mal.
As she passed, Raf snagged her arm and pulled her against him. Raf turned a triumphant glare on T'Mal. With a satisfied call, Ava took to the air.
T'Mal gave her a sad smile of acceptance and started toward the rise.
The sight of Dale nestled close to the Shakar had sent Raf into an unreasoned fury. Jealous rage had threatened to override his good sense. Even Ava had reacted to his strong emotions, ready to attack the Shakar.
Dale was his.
The thought made his heart ache. She wasn't his. She could never be his. She belonged to another world. And as soon as she was reunited with her daughter, they would leave this world and him.
Bringing his anger under control, Raf watched the Shakar disappear over the rise. He needed T'Mal's help to stop Devros.
"Let me loose."
Raf looked at the woman standing rigid in his hold. Anger turned her blue eyes indigo as she riveted him with her stare.
His arm dropped. She stepped free and planted her fists on her hips. The motion caused the over large shirt she wore to droop off one shoulder, emphasizing the rapid rise and fall of her breasts and exposing the fragile line of her collarbone. The sight distracted his attention from her tirade.
"That was about the stupidest display of male dominance I've ever had the displeasure of seeing. We need the Shakar to help us. What were you thinking? Or should I say, not thinking? Well?"
He took a step toward her. "You are beautiful."
"Wh-what?" she sputtered. Confusion took the place of anger in her eyes.
"You are beautiful and strong and mine. I let no other man---or Shakar---touch what is mine." He stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. "If I asked you to stay, would you yet choose to return to your world?"
She rested her cheek against his palm. Love and hope filled her eyes. "Are you asking?"
Raf hesitated. Since the day his half-brother betrayed him, Raf had been a warrior sworn to revenge and retribution. That goal was within his reach, but the odds were good he would not survive the coming encounter with Devros. Could Raf ask her to risk her heart on him? And what of her daughter's needs? Could he bear to let her go?
"I...."
"Hurry!" T'Nar rushed up to them. "T'ea is in danger. We must hurry."
Dale went pale. She grabbed T'Nar's arm. "What's happened?"
T'Nar shook his head. "The bond between us is---different. I feel her fear, but I do not know what causes it."
"Can you lead us to her?" Raf asked.
"Yes, I think so."
"Then let us go," Raf said.
T'Nar nodded and scrambled up the rise. Raf took Dale's arm. Her skin felt cold and clammy. Fear for her child made his courageous warrior woman tremble.
"Raf," Dale breathed. "I can't lose her."
"You will not. I promise." Whatever else happened, Raf vowed that he would return her daughter to Dale.
They crested the rise, and the castle---or what was left of the once mighty fortress---came into view.
Not a single wall remained standing. All that was left were mounds of crumbled stone blocks.
But it was not the castle's destruction that drew their attention. Having shaken off the lethargy of their drugging, the male captives took revenge against their captors. Dale gasped and shuddered as five captives chased down and cornered a slaver. He tried to use his sword to save himself, but drunk on freedom the former captives quickly overpowered him. The man's high-pitched screams echoed in the air as the captives used their fists, his own sword, as well as rocks and sticks to beat him to death. When they turned away and went hunting for their next victim, all that remained of the man was a bloody mass.
Hiding from the rampaging male captives on the far side of the fallen castle, a group of women and children huddled together. The Belanites were nowhere in sight. Like sheep abandoned by their shepherd, they cried in fear.
"Do not watch, T'Dal." T'Mal touched her arm.
Dale swallowed heavily and turned into T'Mal's embrace. "Where is Thea?"
Raf forced himself not to react to the glimmer of satisfaction in the Shakar's eyes. Why did she turn to T'Mal rather than him? A movement on the mountainside across the valley caught his notice.
"There," Raf called.
Dale twisted loose of T'Mal's possessive hold and looked to where Raf pointed. Beside the pass, in the shadow of the mountain, crouched a small figure. A banner of long blond hair blew wildly around Thea's body.
"Thea is safe up there. She's well away from the crazed captives and the slavers," Dale breathed on a sigh of relief.
As if aware she was being watched, Thea lifted an arm to capture her hair. She looked up and across toward Dale.
Smiling and waving frantically, Dale started down toward the castle. Thea smiled back and flashed two thumbs up.
Raf wrapped his arm around Dale's waist to stop her.
She glared at him and tried to squirm away. "Let me go. I have to get to Thea."
"Wait." He tightened his hold. "It is dangerous to cross through the valley. Thea is safe enough for now."
"No, she is not." T'Nar stepped forward. "Look."
Devros moved rapidly up the trail toward the pass. Thea seemed unaware of the approaching danger. Devros would reach her soon.
"Oh, my God!" Dale cried. "We have to stop him!" She broke free of Raf's arms and rushed blindly into the valley.
Raf pulled his sword and followed. T'Mal and T'Nar were close on his heels, the other Shakar right behind them. They quickly caught up with the frantic Dale, surrounding her as they skirted the edge of the valley to avoid the enraged captives. Maddened by the sudden withdrawal of the drug they'd been fed since their capture, and filled with anger, the captives were slaughtering anyone who crossed their path. Devros had been wise to flee, but Raf would not let him escape.
Breathing hard, they reached the bottom of the trail to the pass and paused. From this angle neither Thea nor Devros were visible. By now the two had probably already met.
"T'ea is frightened," T'Nar spoke.
"Has Devros hurt her?" Dale gripped the young Shakar's arm. Tears streamed unchecked down her reddened cheeks.
T'Nar cocked his head as if listening to a silent voice. His eyes grew wide. "She has set the black powder charges and will soon come back down the trail. She does not know Devros follows her."
"T'Nar, can you warn her? Tell her we're coming?" Dale asked.
"Our bonding is limited. Because I am truly Shakar, I can read T'ea's stronger thoughts and emotions, but I do not think she can read mine."
A woman's scream rang out.
Dale whirled around. The captives had discovered the cowering women and children. Lost in their rage, the men didn't realize what they were about to do. "We've got to stop them," she said.
Dale's eyes reflected Raf's dilemma. If he went to help the women, Thea would be left to Devros' mercy. If they escaped the explosions, Devros would go free and Thea would be forever lost to Dale. But could he turn his back on the savage murder of defenseless women and children?
T'Mal stepped forward and spoke in a sibilant tongue to the other Shakar. Like silent ghosts they slipped away. "My warriors and I will see to the captives." He took Dale's hands in his and said, "Take T'Nar and rescue our saara."
"Thank you. Be careful." Dale leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the Shakar's furry cheek.
T'Mal turned to face Raf. "Live hard. Die well, human."
Raf pressed a clenched fist to his chest. "Live well. Die hard, my friend."
T'Mal nodded and without another word followed his warriors.
At his sharp whistle, Ava returned to Raf's outstretched arm. She cocked her head, as he whispered simple instructions into her ear, then she flew off down the mountainside.
"Time is short. Hurry." T'Nar's voice quaked and broke in fear.
Raf took Dale's hand. Her fingers felt small and cold, but her tremulous smile was warm. She moved at his side without hesitation. T'Nar followed.
Raf vowed to save Dale's daughter.
He also vowed he would not let Devros escape, even if it cost him his life, which was the most likely outcome.
While Raf moved ahead, searching for the clearest path, T'Nar kept pace at Dale's side. For what seemed like the hundredth time, Dale's feet slipped on loose rock littering the ragged trail. She pushed on despite the persistent ache low in her back. Her lungs burned in the thin mountain air. They'd traveled steadily for twenty minutes, but they seemed no closer to Devros and Thea. As they rounded each bend Dale worried that Devros would have reached Thea. Fear pushed her on.
Her foot twisted. She stumbled and cried out in pain. T'Nar caught her as she fell, saving her from scraped knees and palms.
Raf returned to her side. "Are you unwell? Can you continue?"
"I'm fine," Dale insisted, struggling to stand.
"She is not well," T'Nar said.
"Nonsense, just help me up." A sharp pain ripped through her abdomen. With a whimper, she clutched her belly and doubled over.
"Dale!"
Raf's cry sounded far away.
She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on breathing through the spasm.
"No, please," she moaned. She couldn't lose this baby.
When the pain eased to a dull band around her midriff, she opened her eyes to Raf and T'Nar's worried gazes. She tried to sit up, but Raf's palm against her shoulder held her to the ground where he'd laid her.
"Let me up. We can't stop. Raf, we have to get to Thea before Devros does."
Raf's hooded gaze locked with hers. He moved his hand from her shoulder to her still flat belly. "You would risk one child for the other?"
"Yes. No. I don't know." She shook her head in confusion and gripped Raf's fingers. "I want this baby---your baby with every fiber of my being. But I can't abandon Thea."
"In this condition, you'll be no help to Thea. Rest here. I will go ahead."
"I will come with you," T'Nar said. "Thea is my hapala. I must assist her."
"Take T'Nar with you. I'll be fine." Ignoring the sticky warmth between her thighs, she sat up and leaned against a boulder. She placed a protective hand on her belly and said, "Bring my other baby back to me."
Raf looked from Dale to T'Nar. "T'Nar you go straight up the trail. I am going to circle around above Devros."
T'Nar nodded his understanding of Raf's plan and darted off, leaving Raf and Dale alone.
Dale dropped her gaze, afraid Raf would know that as soon as she could stand she'd follow them. Her motherly instincts tore her apart. Save Thea or protect her unborn son? She trusted Raf, but Thea was her daughter, her responsibility, one she couldn't abdicate to another.
"Do nothing foolish," Raf said.
Dale lifted her head and met his frown without blinking. "I'll do what I have to do to protect my children."
"As will I." He crouched next to her and stroked her cheek. "The blood of our son bonds me to you and through you to Thea. I will return her to your side or die trying."
Raf's vow made Dale shudder in fear. Raf was a powerful warrior, and Devros was a sneaky rat. But a cornered rat was the most dangerous. She pressed her lips to his fingers in a gentle kiss. "Be careful."
"Always."
"I love you, my Shadow Warrior."
"As I love you, my Sweet Gift of the Valley Dweller."
He bent his head and replaced his fingers with his lips.
Her eyes closed as he kissed her. The dull throb in her abdomen faded away. Renewed energy surged through her.
When she opened her eyes he was gone. Once again she'd given her heart to a warrior. She stood cautiously, waiting for the pain, but it didn't come. No matter the risk, she wouldn't lose Raf.
Raf scrambled up the mountainside. It had been a long time since he'd scaled the mountain cliffs of Arete with his friend Prince Ash, but he hadn't lost the skills. By going straight up the steep rock walls, he hoped to beat Devros to Thea, which was possible. The recent ground shakes left the trail broken and nearly as treacherous as the path Raf took.
A low rumble of thunder broke the ominous silence over the mountain. Both rain and darkness would fall shortly. If Devros reached Thea and took her through the pass, Raf might never find them. He hurried his climb.
Lightning streaked across the sky as he reached the plateau. Crouching low to the ground he surveyed the area. A flash of gold caught his gaze. Thea knelt by a crevice in the rock wall next to the pass. She struck a spark and a small bluish flame danced to life in the crevice. Devros was nowhere to be seen. Raf breathed a small sigh of relief. He had beaten his brother up the mountain. He started to stand and call out to Thea, only to have his words lodge in his throat.
Devros crept out of a shadow behind the unaware Thea. From across the plateau Devros' gaze locked with Raf's. With a smile of satisfaction, Devros rushed forward.
"Thea! Look out!" Raf ran toward them.
At the sound of Raf's voice, Thea looked up with a smile of welcome on her young face. Before Raf could reach them or Thea could stand, Devros struck the girl across the face with the hilt of his sword. Blood gushed from a gash on her forehead, and she crumpled into Devros' arms.
He swung her in front of him, his sword blade against her neck. "Stay back or I'll slit the she-hound's throat."
Two sword lengths away, Raf skidded to a halt. He held out his arms. "Let the girl go free."
Devros laughed. "Why should I? She has the look of your woman. Is she your child?"
Thea moaned and her eyes fluttered open.
"The child is not mine. She means nothing to me," Raf lied.
"Raf?" Thea asked in a slurred voice, her gaze unfocused.
"Silence, she-hound." Devros tightened his grip and she sagged. "This one will bring an excellent price across the pass. Nearly as much as the rest of those sorry captives put together, without the trouble. The Dark Men of Blagden have a taste for blond-haired women, the younger the better."
"Is it profit you truly seek? Or vengeance against me?"
"Why vengeance, of course, my dear brother."
"Then let her go free, and I will give you your chance for vengeance."
"Ever did I beat you in any contest of strength or skill. But I'm not adverse to profit as well."
"You cannot have both. Take the girl and I will follow."
"And that should make me tremble in fear? Once across the pass, you will be in my world."
"I am no longer a child easily defeated by a sneaky, stronger opponent, Stefan. I am a man. A warrior. Now that I am your equal, are you afraid to meet my blade in honest battle?" Raf pulled his sword.
Anger and a touch of apprehension darkened Devros' eyes. He started to back away. Thea stirred again in his hold. Her eyes opened and met Raf's. Though dazed she seemed aware of what was happening.
Raf matched Devros step for step. Lightning lit the sky, followed by a deep growl of thunder that shook the ground. Devros staggered. The shaking continued and Raf realized it was not thunder. He braced himself against the roll of the ground. Rocks tumbled from the surrounding cliffs. One struck the ground near Devros. A mere man's length from them, a portion of the plateau gave way. With a grinding groan it slid down the mountainside, leaving a sheer drop. The ground settled to a tenuous stillness. The clouds opened up and rain poured down, soaking them in moments.
Panic, then an odd look of triumph flashed across Devros' face as the ground heaved beneath him. "This ground shake will soon close the pass. Once that happens none will be able to reach me. I'll be safe. If you want the girl so badly, she's yours."
With that Devros shoved Thea toward the raw cliff and bolted toward the pass.
Raf started after him. Thea's scream made him stop and turn.
She screamed again and thrashed on the ground, her fingers clawing uselessly at the rain-slicked mud as she slid slowly over the edge.
Devros' laughter taunted Raf as he went after her. The ground beneath him groaned in protest of his weight. A crack appeared beneath his feet, the rush of rain widening it with every step he took. He threw himself down and crawled across the ground on his belly.
"Raf!" Thea screamed. "Help me!" She stretched out a mud-covered arm. Blood, rain and tears streamed down her pale cheeks.
Raf reached for her, but their fingers missed by a hand's width. Her feet hung over the edge. With a flip of his wrist, Raf turned the sword in his hand so he gripped the blade and held out the hilt to Thea. She grabbed onto the hilt. Her slow slide halted.
The sharp edge of the crystal blade bit into Raf's palm. He bit his lip against the pain and tugged. Thea inched closer to him. The ground tilted beneath them and Raf started to slip. He dug his toes into the muddy rock. Rain beat down on him.
"Hold on," he shouted over the boom of thunder and the rumble of the crumbling ground.
Thea nodded, her pain-filled gaze filled with trust.
Carefully Raf tried to work one foot back. They slipped closer to the edge. From the waist down Thea's body now dangled over the abyss. By himself, he could crawl back, but Thea's weight pulled him ever forward. She kicked trying to find footing. The movement dug the blade deeper into his flesh. Blood slicked his grip on the sword. It started to slip away. He tightened his hold. Pain sliced through him.
"You can't save me. Let go. Save yourself," Thea said.
"No. I will not abandon you."
"If you don't let me go, we'll both die. Don't leave my mother alone. Please," she begged. "Tell her I love her. Tell T'Nar I'm sorry."
"Thea! Do not let go!" Raf screamed as he saw her fingers start to open. He lurched forward and clamped his free hand around her wrist just as her hand fell away from the hilt of the sword. He dropped the blade as they began their inexorable glide into oblivion.
"Forgive me, Dale," he whispered.
Dale arrived just in time to see the two people she loved going over the cliff. Ignoring the dangerous tilt of the ground, she ran across the plateau and dropped to her knees next to Raf's legs.
She wrapped her hands around his ankles and calves and struggled to yank him back. The muddy ground sucked at them. She bit her lip against the renewed pain in her belly and pulled.
T'Nar's strong, fur-covered hands joined hers. Together they dragged Raf and Thea away from the edge of the crumbling cliff.
Sobbing, Dale gathered Thea into her arms. She stroked the hair from Thea's face. Rain washed away mud and tears as they clung together. T'Nar knelt quietly at their side. Raf staggered to his feet.
Thea stirred in Dale's embrace. She smiled weakly up at Raf. "Thank you."
"No thanks are necessary, my lady." Raf smiled in return.
"Words are inadequate to express my thanks." Dale stared up at Raf. His smile disappeared. Covered in mud, blood dripping from his hand, he glared back at her. The pouring rain didn't douse the angry spark in his eyes.
"You disobeyed my orders and put yourself in danger."
Dale's own anger ignited in return. "If I hadn't, both you and my daughter would be dead."
"Now is not the time." T'Nar stepped between them. "We must leave this place."
"T'Nar's right. I set the explosives all along the pass. We're too close." Thea pointed toward where they could still make out Devros climbing over the rocks that had fallen across the opening. Soon he would reach the top and disappear.
"T'Nar, take the women down the trail. I must stop Devros."
Dale couldn't believe what she was hearing. Pain speared through her side. Or was it her heart? "Let him go. It's over. When the explosives go off, he'll either be killed or trapped on the other side. There's no need to risk your life."
"There is every need. You must understand. With his dying breath my father made me vow to stop Stefan. Honor demands I fulfill that vow. Until my brother is brought to justice, none are safe from his evil. He is of my blood. It is my duty to stop him."
"Oh, I understand all right. I understand that your damned honor means more to you than me. I understand that you're a warrior, but is it justice you want? Or revenge? What about me? What duty do you owe me?"
His face remained impassive through her tirade. "I will return to you. You have my word." He spoke calmly, as if speaking to a hysterical child.
Dale hugged Thea close to her chest to stop herself from begging him to stay. "I understand that I'm a fool," she whispered into Thea's wet hair.
When he leaned over to kiss her, she twisted her face away. Hurt flashed in his eyes, then he turned and ran toward the pass.
"Come, we must leave." T'Nar helped Dale and Thea to their feet.
Thea moaned and went limp. T'Nar swung her slight frame into his arms and started down the trail.
Safe at the edge of the trail, Dale stopped and turned to watch as Raf made his way up the rockslide behind Devros. She almost wished the rain would obscure the view, but the scene played out in horrifying detail.
Raf came up behind Devros. Sword in hand, Devros whirled to confront his brother. Heart in her throat, Dale realized that Raf was unarmed. His sword lay at the bottom of the cliff.
Thunder drowned out their words, but Dale could see the two men speak. Raf appeared calm, but Devros waved his arms wildly. Lightning flashed off his sword. He struck out. Raf dodged and grappled with Devros. The two became one, twisting and turning in a blur of motion.
Dale pressed her fisted knuckles to her mouth to keep from crying out. Tears streamed down her face, washed away by the pounding rain.
A distant explosion rocked the ground then another, closer. Thea's explosive charges were going off. The two men seemed oblivious to the danger approaching them. They continued to fight, neither able to subdue the other. She had to stop them. Dale took a step forward. A spasm of pain speared her belly.
A third explosion jarred her to her knees. One by one the explosions came, each closer than the last. Rocks tumbled down the sides of the pass. Still, Raf and Devros fought on.
"No!" Dale screamed as the last explosion tore the pass asunder. The two men broke apart and, for a moment, stood motionless, silhouetted against the explosion's dust cloud. Across the distance, Dale felt Raf's gaze upon her. Then he dived to one side as a boulder crushed Devros. More rocks buried him. In the rain and flying debris, she lost sight of Raf.
A silent prayer echoed in her mind as she waited for the cloud to dissipate. Suddenly the rain ceased and the world went still. She searched the now rubble-filled pass, but Raf was gone.
She buried her face in her hands, but no tears came. Raf was gone. Dead. Why couldn't she cry? Rage? Grieve? Tears wouldn't bring Raf back any more than they had brought back her father, Steven or Cathy. For the sake of Thea and her unborn son, Dale shut down her emotions. She had to be strong.
"T'Dal?"
Dale jerked at the soft touch on her shoulder. She looked up into T'Mal's compassion-filled eyes. His pity stiffened her spine. She stood, shrugging off his hand as he tried to help.
"I'm fine. Let's go. Thea needs medical help."
T'Mal nodded sadly. "She is badly injured. She no longer responds. Look below, King Timon's troops have arrived. The compound is now under his control."
The weeklong trip down the mountain into Cleva, Dramon's capital city, passed in a blur. Dale and an unconscious Thea rode in a litter King Timon's men provided, while T'Nar and T'Mal, unable to ride the nervous quinar, trotted tirelessly alongside.
Once they reached the castle, a healer examined Thea. Though T'Nar's bond with Thea seemed to have slowed the progression of her kidney failure, the blow to her head had left her in a coma. The healer dosed her with medication for the infection raging through her slight body, but he could do nothing to wake her. He also examined Dale and found her fit, the baby unharmed by their ordeal.
Numb with grief, past, present and future, Dale remained at Thea's side. T'Nar curled at the foot of the bed. With each passing day, he grew more withdrawn and silent, as if he were joining Thea in her coma.
Shaking his head, the healer left them alone. When Thea's condition worsened, he sent for assistance. Dozens of healers came and went, but none offered any hope.
The weather seemed determined to match Dale's hopeless mood. Rain continued to pour. Thunder rumbled and lightning streaked across the sky. With every flash, the crystal in her pocket heated. She clutched the shard and stared at her fragile daughter. Earth offered medical help not available on this primitive world. But if she believed T'Mal's warning, taking Thea away from this world and T'Nar, would tear their souls apart, perhaps kill them. But if Thea remained here, would she survive?
And what of Raf's unborn son? What effect would the trip through time and space have on him? Questions without answers circled Dale's mind like a hamster on a wheel. She let the crystal drop out of her hand. Until there was no other choice, she couldn't take the risk.
"Dale?"
Dale lifted her head as young King Timon entered the room quietly and stood next to Thea's bed. She smiled at the handsome boy king. Something about him struck a familiar cord, but she couldn't think of what it was right now. Still, his concern for her and Thea warmed Dale's heart.
Dramon was fortunate to have such a wise and caring monarch. Already he'd signed a treaty with the mountain Shakar, dealt with the remaining slavers, and seen to the return of the captives to their homes.
Dale would have liked to have been there when Dolan was reunited with his wife and child, but Thea remained in critical condition.
"I have brought our best healer to care for Theadora." He cast an adoring look toward Thea
Dale's smile grew. From the first moment he'd laid eyes on Thea, Timon had been smitten.
"I would have summoned Sianna Cathor immediately, but she was out of the country, assisting with the birth of Prince Ash de Gar's first child. She has just returned."
"Prince Ash de Gar." Dale growled the name as anger stirred inside her. Because of Prince Ash de Gar, Cathy was dead. Because of Prince Ash de Gar, Raf was dead. Because of Prince Ash de Gar, Thea might die. Whatever happened, someday Prince Ash de Gar would know the suffering he'd caused. It felt good to find a focus for her fear, pain and anger.
"Shall I admit her?" King Timon asked.
Though she wondered what more this doctor could do that the others hadn't, she said, "Of course." Dale stood. Timon opened the door, and he left as the healer entered.
Dale felt the woman's presence before she entered the room. Dressed in a white, flowing robe-like gown, Sianna Cathor radiated warmth, and a soft glow seemed to surround her. Except for the black hair braided around her face and the sparkle of humanity in her violet eyes, the woman looked like an angel.
Afraid of having her hopes crushed again, Dale stiffened in fear.
T'Nar's fur bristled, and he placed himself between Thea and the woman. This was his first reaction to the world around him, since Thea had slipped into her coma.
"Be at ease, young Shakar. I mean your hapala no harm." The woman moved close and stroked T'Nar's head. Where she touched him the area looked hazy. Dale blinked and the view sharpened.
T'Nar's slanted eyes widened. His body relaxed and he pressed his cheek into the woman's palm. With a soft, rumbling purr he settled back down next to the bed.
"Rest now," she said. "Your hapala will be fine."
Dale shook off the feeling of hope this woman inspired. "Don't promise what you can't deliver." Her voice rasped with anger, not at this angelic woman, but at fate.
The woman stepped forward and gently touched Dale's belly, then smiled. "You carry a son. Fear not. The pain you feel comes not from any danger to him, but from your heart. He will be strong and healthy."
Warmth surged through Dale. In shock, she stared at the pale blue haze surrounding her middle.
She jumped back and pressed her palm against her belly. "How do you know?"
"It is my gift. Will you allow me to help your daughter?"
"Y-yes. Of course."
A pearl white glow emanated from the woman hands as she bent over and laid them on Thea's temples. She then moved one hand down Thea to rest at her waist. The glow grew, expanding to encompass the woman as well as Thea's entire body. Dale stared into the swirling mist surrounding them, where unnamed colors danced and shimmered. Outside, the crash of thunder stopped. Inside her head, Dale heard a delicate sound, like the tinkle of bells or wind chimes. From the other side of the bed, the power of Sianna's healing touch washed over Dale like a warm summer breeze.
Time and breath ceased.
Then Sianna removed her hands and sagged away from the bed. The misty glow vanished abruptly. "It is time to awaken now, Theadora," she whispered.
Afraid to see Thea's condition unchanged, Dale focused her gaze on Sianna. The woman's milky skin looked drawn and gray, the sparkle in her violet eyes dimmed.
Hope died. The woman had failed.
"T'Nar?"
At the sound of Thea's small voice, Dale dropped to her knees beside the bed and clutched Thea's outstretched hand. Tears burned Dale's eyes. Thea would live, but she was still lost. The connection between Thea and T'Nar was stronger than the blood she and Thea shared.
T'Nar took Thea's other hand. "I am here."
"What happened? I can't seem to remember much after I lit the last fuse. Where's my mom? Mom!" Thea's voice rose in panic as she tried to sit up.
"Shhh, baby. I'm here, too." Dale stroked the tangled hair from Thea's face. "Take it easy. Everything is okay. You're going to be fine. Isn't she?" She looked up at Sianna.
"The sickness that was within your daughter is gone."
"But how?"
The woman sounded beyond weary, but she gave Dale a reassuring smile. "Does it matter?"
Dale shook her head and turned back to Thea.
"And Raf?" Thea's brow puckered in concentration. "I remember he saved my life."
Dale ducked her head to hide the answer in her eyes.
"We do not know," T'Nar answered. "He and Devros were caught by the explosion in the pass. His body has not been recovered."
"Oh, Mom. I'm so sorry."
Dale raised her head and smiled at her daughter. How like Thea to consider her feelings. "I'm all right."
"But you love him."
"Yes, I loved him, but he's gone and life goes on. You're safe. That's all that matters." She wouldn't burden Thea with the pain of her loss.
Thea worried her lower lip with her teeth and looked at Dale. "Mom, y-you know I can't go back to Earth. Not now. Maybe never."
"I know."
"What will you do?"
Thea's simple question rocked Dale back on her heels.
What would she do?
For her help in stopping the slavers, King Timon had promised her a place in the castle for as long as she wanted. She didn't have to do anything. But what kind of life would that be? One devoid of purpose and love. She needed a reason, beyond the child growing inside her and her daughter, to live happily.
"Will you go back to Earth?" Thea asked, her voice small with unspoken fear.
"No. Even though you have a different destiny, I could never leave you. Besides, your baby brother will want to know his big sister."
Thea's eyes widened. "You're going to have Raf's baby? That's great! Did you hear that, T'Nar? We're going to have a baby hapal."
T'Nar smiled and nodded.
How easily Thea adapted to the changes in her life. Dale wished she could do the same.
Sianna stepped forward and touched Dale's shoulder. "Theadora should rest now, and so should you. You are both yet weak." She took Dale's arm and led her from the room.
Dale paused at the door. "Are you coming, too, T'Nar?"
"Let him stay," Sianna told her. "Theadora will rest better if he is close by. The bond between them has been strained to near the breaking point. They gain strength from each other."
Dale felt the spirit drain out of her as she followed Sianna down the corridor. "I've lost her."
Sianna's laugh sounded like musical chimes in the wind. "Nonsense. You will never lose her. You are her mother. Her bond with you is no less than the one she shares with T'Nar. It is just different. She will always be in your heart as you are in hers. Now is her time to fly free, to test her wings. She will return."
"But she'll never be my little girl again."
"Is that not the way of your people?" Sianna continued to speak as she led Dale into a comfortable bedchamber and helped her settle into bed. "You give birth to a child, nurture them through infancy and childhood, then set them free to find their own lives." She tucked the blanket around Dale and stroked her brow.
Dale gave a small choked laugh. "I just didn't expect it to happen so soon or in this way."
"Growth is always a painful process, is it not? But it is not for Theadora that you grieve, is it? Before you can begin to heal, you must acknowledge the wound you carry in here." Sianna touched Dale's chest. "Own your loss. Do not bury it where it will fester."
Dale closed her eyes and turned away from Sianna's gentle touch and wise counsel. "I don't know what you mean. You can't lose what you never had. Raf was never mine. He was a warrior. And a warrior can't be owned."
"Perhaps to find happiness with a warrior, a woman must accept him for what he is," Sianna said.
"But my warrior is dead, so your theory is moot," Dale snapped back.
"His body may be gone, but would you kill the spirit of him that lives on within you?"
"Go away, Sianna." The woman's words ate at Dale's lethargy, rousing her to new pain. "Like I told Thea, life goes on. I'll survive." She would go on, for her own sake and the sake of her children.
Dale's tears started as the door clicked quietly shut behind Sianna.
The next morning she woke feeling surprisingly refreshed and filled with new purpose. Thea was doing well, content to rest, recuperate and explore her relationship with T'Nar, as well as Timon's intriguing castle.
After a brief audience with King Timon, it didn't take long for Dale to get the ball rolling. She was going to Mardelan to see Prince Ash de Gar. There were a few things she wanted to say to that man.
Three days later, under clear skies, she, T'Mal and a small contingent of King Timon's guard sailed downriver toward Castle Mar.
She stood at the helm of the boat. A mild breeze blew wisps of hair, which had grown since she'd left Earth, into her eyes. She breathed in moist air filled with the scent of new growth. Birds flitted alongside the boat and through the air. Their calls blended with the chirp of insects and the whoosh of the boat through the water in a soothing song. Peace settled over her.
T'Mal came to her side. Still uneasy with the Human-Shakar alliance, as well as most human company, he'd insisted on accompanying her. His attention eased Dale's sense of abandonment. She felt comfortable with him.
The river wound through a beautiful countryside---hills, woods, fields, farms and villages---all awakening to spring's allure.
"Do you see the countryside?" T'Mal asked gently.
She turned to face him. "No, not really. I'm thinking about my meeting with Prince Ash de Gar. The closer I get the more I wonder why I'm going to see him. Do I really need to know what happened between him and Cathy?" When she'd told T'Mal about her sister he'd accepted her story without comment. "Maybe I should just turn around and go back. How could I leave Thea? What if she needs me?"
"T'ea is fine. T'Nar will guard her well. She has much to learn of her Shakar heritage."
"And T'Nar has a lot to learn about his all too human sister."
T'Mal's husky laugh made Dale smile.
"Too many loved ones have disappeared from your life, leaving no body for you to grieve over," T'Mal continued. "In Shakar culture, the body must be viewed before death can be accepted. Without a body to grace the funeral pyre, the Shakar is trapped forever between this world and the next. Only by fire can his spirit be released to the afterlife. His family cannot grieve for him or pay homage to his spirit. His mate may never bond with another. His possessions are left to rot, untouched. Any who would do so are considered cursed."
"Humans on my world are not quite so strict, but we do have our customs and traditions surrounding death. Still, it would have been a comfort to have said good-bye. My last words to Raf were cold and hard. He died thinking I hated him for being a warrior."
"Raf del Jakar was no fool. He heard the words of your heart."
She couldn't hate Raf for being what she was herself. A warrior. Not a warrior in the sense of one who engaged in war, but a person who fought body, heart, mind, and soul for what was right and honorable. All the people she loved in her life were warriors---her father, Steven, Cathy, Thea, and Raf.
"Speak with this Prince Ash de Gar." T'Mal's voice broke through her revelation. "Perhaps he will give you ease about your sister."
"My heart is already at peace. I'll always grieve for those I've lost, but I'll never again deny they were mine. Raf loved me. I can live with that knowledge and the loss. You are a wise man, T'Mal."
"I am not a man. I am Shakar. Do not forget again."
Dale chuckled. Though he said the words softly and without anger, Dale heard the male pique in his voice.
"Fur or no fur, a man is a man," she told him.
His deep growl scattered the sailors before him as he stalked away.
Feeling suddenly free and lighthearted, Dale threw back her head and let her laughter ring out over the water.
A week later Dale waited nervously in Castle Mar's great hall.
When they'd arrived and demanded an audience with Ash de Gar, a small, wizened man, dressed in flowing white robes frowned at their lack of respect. But he took their names and made them wait. Minutes later he returned with the palace guard. T'Mal pulled his sword, but one look from the old man's piercing eyes stayed his hand. He objected loudly when the old man requested that Dale go with him alone. Not sensing any danger she reassured T'Mal and followed the old man into the great hall.
Now, still dressed in her travel-stained clothing, and her back aching, she stood alone in the empty hall, waiting. Her stomach growled in hunger. Maybe she should have taken T'Mal's advice and found a meal and lodging before attempting an audience with Prince Ash de Gar. But impatient to conclude her business and get back to Thea, she'd pushed ahead.
Running her fingers through her hair, she looked around the hall. Large enough to hold a thousand people, the polished stone floor stretched from wall to wall. No columns broke the endless expanse. The walls rose over three stories high, soaring to an arched ceiling. Church-like stained glass windows, depicting what she assumed were images of battles and conquests of previous kings, graced the two opposing walls. The sun shone through the colorful pictures, throwing rainbows of light into the enormous chamber.
At the far side of the hall stood a dais, which held two large intricately carved chairs as well as a dozen other less ornate ones. The stone wall behind the dais seemed odd. A sliver of light seeped in along an almost unseen center seam. Curiosity had Dale moving closer to investigate.
The click of a door and the sound of firm footsteps on stone made her turn. Even across the length of the hall she recognized Ash. He wore a floor-length, purple velvet robe, delicately embroidered and studded with tiny crystals. A gold sash around his waist molded the robe to his lean body. The soft feminine attire should have looked ridiculous, but instead it accented his blatant masculinity. Sandy blond hair brushed the top of his shoulders and swung loose as he walked toward her.
Cathy had called this man her Mystic Warrior. At one time Dale had considered using him as a model for her sculpture, as Cathy had for her drawings. But Dale now realized that neither stone nor metal, nor pen and paper, could ever capture his power and grace.
She stood motionless as he stepped up to her. As with Raf, she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Pain lanced through her heart at the thought of Raf. She touched her belly. Though it was too soon to feel him, she could swear her son stirred inside her.
Ash held out his hands, then let them fall slowly to his sides as she ignored them.
"I did not believe Zard Akester when he said a woman called Dale Stuart-Taylor demanded an audience. But you are here."
She remained silent.
"Come. Sit." He motioned her toward the dais and waited until she sat in the smaller of the two thrones. He seated himself in the larger and leaned forward. "Tell me how you come to be here."
Now that she finally faced the man who'd stolen Cathy away from her and sent Raf to his death, Dale found herself without anything to say. Anger and hatred no longer ate at her soul. Both Cathy and Raf had made their own choices. She held out the small shard of crystal.
Ash accepted the piece. "Remains of the Moon Crystal." He looked into her eyes. "You came in search of your sister?"
"Yes and no." Dale's voice felt raspy as she related what had happened since she'd last seen him and Cathy. He listened without comment or expression, though his gaze narrowed when she told him of Raf's death. "I'm not exactly sure why I've come to see you, but I know what's it's like to have questions without answers. When Cathy disappeared with you, the not knowing was worse than when Raf told me how she died. I felt you deserved to know how your friend died."
"But Cathy is..."
"Ash de Gar!" An angry voice interrupted what Ash was about to say.
They turned as a woman, a vision in white and gold, rushed across the hall toward them.
Ash sprang to his feet. Guilt and worry creased his mouth into a frown. "You should not yet be out of bed."
"Nonsense. It's been two weeks," the woman insisted as she came closer. "I just had a baby, not major surgery."
Dale realized this must be the Princess Katrina, Ash's wife. Something about the woman's voice struck a chord inside Dale. Unsure of how to react to this interruption, she stood and waited.
The woman skidded to a halt a few feet from Ash. When he reached out for her, she smacked his hand away.
"How could you keep this from me?" she demanded, her warm, chocolate-brown eyes filling with tears.
"I was unsure of the truth. I wished to confirm her identity before you were disappointed," Ash said.
"I'm a big girl. I can take disappointment. You had no right." She turned toward Dale as she told him, "We'll talk about this later."
Dale almost felt sorry for the chagrined Ash.
Princess Katrina's brown eyes locked with a strange, almost hungry, intensity on Dale.
"Dale." Princess Katrina reached out her hand. "Don't you know me?"
"Go slow, my love," Ash cautioned.
Dale's heartbeat seemed to trip and slow as time stretched out between them. She swayed. Deep in her soul she knew this woman.
"Look at me, Dale. Really look. It's me. Cathy."
"It can't be. Cathy's dead. Raf saw her die---a sword through her heart---and he saw her body dissolved into nothingness by a bolt of lightning."
The woman's image wavered and blurred. For a moment Dale could see Cathy's impish grin and short, dark hair, superimposed over Katrina's golden beauty.
"Cathy?"
Then the vision faded along with the light. Dale felt herself falling. She heard Cathy's frightened cry as she tumbled into oblivion.
"Go away. I'm still angry with you."
"Perhaps. But yours should not be the first face she sees when she awakens."
"Yes, it should."
Dale stirred to the sound of heated whispers. She blinked open her eyes and saw that she was lying on a soft bed in a comfortably appointed bedroom. Ash and Princess Katrina stood next to the bed, arguing. Despite their words, the love between them was obvious.
A pang of loneliness made Dale's eyes burn with unshed tears. Twice in her life she'd glimpsed the heaven of love, and twice it had been snatched from her prematurely.
A flutter in her belly made her smile. Just gas, of course. It couldn't be her unborn son yet, but the feeling drove away self-pity. In her few short years with Steven, and her even shorter time with Raf, she'd experienced more love than most women did in a lifetime. And both men had left her with precious gifts---Thea and ... Zale.
"Zale," she whispered. "Zale Stuart-Taylor de Jakar." The name fit for their unborn son.
"You're awake," Cathy said.
The idea that this lovely young woman was somehow her sister, Cathy, no longer shocked or surprised Dale. She held out her hand and smiled. "Hi, sis."
Tears streamed down Cathy's cheeks as she pressed Dale's hand to her face and sank onto the edge of the bed where Dale rested.
"Take it easy there, sis." Dale sat up and gathered the now sobbing Cathy into her arms.
Ash looked on helplessly, his face tight with concern.
"It's okay," Dale told him. "She'll be fine. Just some postnatal hormones."
"I am not hormonal," Cathy insisted, her voice muffled against Dale's chest. "I'm just so happy," she wailed through a fresh bout of tears.
Someone knocked on the door. Ash opened it and listened to the person's whispered message. He looked over at Dale, a strange expression on his face. The messenger stood waiting. Ash appeared torn, eager to follow up on whatever he'd just learned, but hesitant to leave his wife's side.
Dale smiled at him. "You can leave us alone. We'll be fine." She lifted Cathy's face to meet her gaze. "We have a lot of catching up to do. And I have a new niece or nephew to meet."
Cathy sniffed and said, "N-niece. Her n-name is Erica."
Ash nodded and hurried out of the room.
"Guess now I really am your older sister," Dale teased. On Earth Cathy had been five years Dale's senior, but in her new body, Cathy wasn't much older than her early twenties.
Cathy sat up, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I always said you had an old soul. I've missed you so much."
Funny, Dale thought, how easy it was to look past Cathy's physical appearance and see the sister she'd always known and loved. Blond or brunette. Tall or short. Lame or whole. This woman was Cathy, her sister.
They talked for hours. Each relating their lives since they'd parted. They visited the bathing chamber and talked more in the warm, steaming heat. Years melted away. Cathy summoned a servant and had little Erica brought to them. They both cooed over the adorable baby. Dale watched as Cathy nursed the infant and rocked her to sleep, eager for the time she'd nurse her own son.
The thought that Raf would never know his son tore at Dale's heart.
A commotion outside her room woke Dale. At the sound of a loud crash, she bolted up in bed. She, Cathy and Erica had all fallen asleep together, but now she was alone. Outside the window, long shadows crept over the ground as the sun sank.
Someone shouted, the words unintelligible, but unmistakably angry. Another person, Dale thought it might be Ash, answered in a loud but calm voice. She couldn't make out his words, either.
She got out of bed and grimaced in distaste. She'd fallen asleep wearing nothing but a silky robe. The belt was missing and the robe refused to remain closed as she got up. Her hair was tangled around her head, and her mouth tasted like a spinner's lair smelled.
A shrill familiar shriek came from the open window behind her. She gripped the front of the robe together and turned.
"Ava!" Dale cried in delight. The last time she'd seen the bird it had disappeared down the mountain. Lost in her grief, Dale had forgotten about the creature.
Dale dodged Ava's excited greeting as the bird flew into the room, her broad wingspan knocking into lamps and catching on the filmy curtains and bedding. Her sharp talons ripped the material to shreds. Feathers floated in the air. Finally, Ava settled on the headboard of the bed and began preening her ruffled feathers, as if the room around her wasn't in shambles.
Dale had started toward the bird, when the door crashed open. She whirled around and froze. A dark shadow stood silhouetted in the light of the doorway. Her heart started to pound.
"I think you should wait." Ash's voice came from behind the figure.
"No."
She clutched her arms around her middle at the sound of the all too familiar voice.
"Come away, Ash." Cathy tugged the reluctant Ash back into the corridor.
The door closed behind the figure, leaving him and Dale alone.
Afraid to breathe and shatter this fragile dream she stood rigid. This couldn't be Raf. It couldn't be!
Raf stood in the shadow of the doorway and drank in the sight of the woman he loved---the woman he had clawed his way out of oblivion to return to.
Motionless, she stared back, her eyes wide and full of disbelief and fear.
He took a step forward. She gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth to smother the sound. Tears trickled down her pale cheeks. The long, silky robe she wore gaped open. The edges caught on the peaks of her breasts and hung there, fluttering wildly with her every breath.
He moved into the light.
"Raf," she breathed out on an uneven whisper. Then her eyes closed and her knees buckled.
He caught her as she crumpled.
Resting his knee on the edge of the bed, he tried to put her down. While her body felt fragile in his arms, her grip on his shoulders was strong and determined.
He smiled. Whether she believed him to be real or imagined, his little tiguer would hold onto him tight.
Slipping his arm around her waist, he lay on the bed beside her. She buried her face against his chest and sobs racked her slim frame.
"Do not cry, Little Tiguer. I am here."
Abruptly, her tears stopped. Raf sucked in his breath when her chilled fingers slipped under his shirt and moved over his skin. He didn't object as she stripped off his clothing with frantic hands. When her tongue stroked over his collarbone, he groaned a silent thanks to Ash for insisting he bathe before seeing Dale.
The long trip around the mountain after the pass blew up, and the days and nights traveling just a step behind Dale and her party, had left little time for personal hygiene.
Her hand, now warm with passion, closed around the evidence of his desire. Eyes still squeezed shut, she tugged him toward her.
"Be easy, or it will end before it begins." He took her hands in his and tried to soothe her eagerness. "Open your eyes. Look at me."
"I can't." Dale shook her head. "I'm afraid that you'll disappear. That you're not real. That I'm only dreaming you're here."
"Touch me. Feel my heartbeat. I am real." He placed her palm against his chest. Her fingers curled into a tight fist of fearful denial. "When the mountain exploded around me, I feared I would never again experience the completion I found in your arms. Then, after the dust settled and I was yet alive, I feared you would use the crystal to return to your world and be lost to me forever. To find you here is a dream. One I do not want to end too quickly. Share my dream. Open your eyes."
She opened her eyes, and they were bright with love as she gazed up at him.
"Oh, Raf!" She threw her arms around him. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, and he kissed away the salty moisture. His mouth slid over her eager flesh, until her sobs turned to sighs of pleasure. Words were unnecessary as they came together in the universal dance of love.
Something tickled Dale's nose. She twitched. The tickle didn't end. She slapped at the irritation. Her hand landed against hard, warm flesh. Her eyes snapped open to meet Raf's laughing gaze. She flinched and looked around the room.
Sunlight streamed in through the window. A warm breeze played lightly with the shredded curtains. Head tucked beneath her wing, Ava perched on the footboard of the bed.
Despite their long night of passion, the resulting ache between her thighs, and Raf's hard body pressed against her side, Dale still doubted this was real. Afraid he might yet vanish, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. She toyed with the sheet.
"When I saw the pass explode, I thought you were dea..." Her voice cracked. "I thought I'd lost you."
"I said I would return to you. Do you doubt the word of a warrior?"
Warrior. Dale's flesh chilled. Raf was still a warrior. For a moment in time, she'd forgotten.
He'd come back to her---this time. But what of the next time and the time after that? Could she live with the fear?
Yes! After all her doubts, the answer was easy. The alternative---life without Raf---was too unbearable to consider. She'd tasted that hell. And though Raf might yet leave her as Steven had, she would grab onto and savor each moment with Raf.
"Of course, officially, I am no longer a warrior."
"What?" Dale jerked away to stare at Raf. "What the hell are you talking about? How can you not be a warrior?"
Raf's cheeks reddened. He ducked his head. "Prince Ash has asked that I serve as Ambassador to the Azul Mountain Shakar. I have accepted."
Dale placed her palms on either side of Raf's face and forced him to look at her. "And you're happy with this?
"Yes."
His eyes confirmed the truth of his words.
Relief coursed through her, but honesty forced her to add, "I was wrong to ask you to ignore your vow. When I thought you were dead, I discovered that I'm as much a warrior as you. If I hadn't seen Devros crushed beneath the rocks, I would have pursued him to the end of time to make him pay for your death. You don't have to give up being a warrior for me."
He cupped her hands beneath his own and moved one to his lips. The warmth of his breath against her palm sent a shiver of longing through Dale.
"Ever will I stand ready to lend my arm to my sovereign, but I have reached the end of my active warrior years. I have run the course my brother set my feet upon so long ago. Stefan is dead. It is time for me to embark on a new journey. Will you join me? Will you stand at my side as ambassador to the Shakar? T'Mal merely tolerates me, but he trusts and admires you," Raf growled.
"Is that all you want? A co-ambassador?"
"What do you think?" Raf tugged the sheet aside and cupped her breast.
"When you touch me like that, I find it hard to think at all."
"Then don't think, feel. Feel how much I desire you. Feel how much I want you." His arousal brushed against her naked thigh.
She turned into his arms.
"Feel how much I love you, Little Tiguer." His lips hovered over hers, their breath mingling. "Be my co-ambassador, but most of all be my lifemate."
"Yes. I love you..."
...my Shadow Warrior, she finished silently as his mouth swallowed her words.
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