Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) (26 page)

Rage had
sustained Ashayna in the beginning, but was now long exhausted. Even fear—her
companion when she couldn’t maintain rage—had fled. Her mind had grown numb, disconnected
from her own body, unable to muster enough will power to fight against the
creeping lethargy stealing across her body. Ashayna swayed with the rhythm of
Winter Frost’s stride. Her consciousness, her very personality, slipped farther
under the fog of Itharann’s influence with each step. Or perhaps it was just
the soul-weakening cold of the Wild Path—its chill far worse than she
remembered from her first trip through the eerie grey world.

A spark of
Stonemantle stubbornness flared and she roused herself enough to ask, “Where
are you taking me?”

Itharann looked
at her over his shoulder, his expression bland, lacking anything to give away
what he was thinking. After several moments of his unfathomable look, he
returned to watching the path ahead.

“You will find
out soon enough.”

Soon was sooner
than Ashayna would have thought. Another arch loomed up out of the shadows and
mist. An unheard command halted Summer Flame. Itharann leaned close to the
arch, running his talons along the stone. With a surge of power, the arch burst
into life. Itharann urged Summer Flame forward. Stallion and rider vanished through
the arch and Winter’s Frost followed close behind.

Blistering heat
struck Ashayna like a fist, causing her lungs to labor for a moment and sweat
to bead up onto her skin. They had left the tranquil grey world behind for one
filled with intense late afternoon sun and oppressive muggy air. Blinking
against bright light, she raised her hand to shade her eyes and realized she
was in control of her body again.

“Don’t think of
escape. We are far from anyone or anything you know.”

They stood at
the edge of a cliff, overlooking a tree shrouded river delta, surrounded by
tall, craggy mountains. This vegetation was much thicker than she recalled from
the one time she had seen a jungle. That time she had been onboard a ship, some
distance from shore. With each breath she could taste the loamy essence upon
the moisture laden air.

“Where are we?”

“It’s called a
rainforest.” His tone was droll.

“That’s not…,”
she gritted her teeth and strove for calm. “Why bring me here?”

“If I could
have avoided bringing you here, I would have, but, my dear Ash, that is the one
downfall of the bond.” He sighed, and stretched to loosen stiff joints and
ruffle feathers as Sorntar would.

The move caused
a spike of longing to pierce her heart. The strength of her emotions caught her
off guard.

Itharann gazed
upon her with a surprised look. Ashayna realized with a sick sensation in her
middle, she’d just given Itharann a piece of information he could use as a
weapon.

“So it’s not
just lust.” His dark eyes shone in contrast against his pale skin. He gave her
a smile of absolute merriment, stretching the tattoo along his cheek bones. In
another familiar move, he cocked his head to one side, appraising her with a
knowing look before his expression turned serious once again. “The force of
your love, it surprised you, didn’t it? What an interesting situation we find
ourselves in. If we had more time, I’d enjoy exploring our newfound
relationship.”

“If I had my
sword, I’d let you explore it up close.”

“Peace. I didn’t
intend to bait you unduly. For what I must do next, I will need your
cooperation, or at least, it will make what I must do easier. Will you agree to
behave? Or do you prefer to be a prisoner? The choice is yours.”

“Tell me what
you plan, and why you need me to behave. Then I’ll decide what to do.”

“We must make a
flight, a few candlemarks at the most. However, I will be flying fast and cover
a great deal of distance. We will be forced to leave our santhyrian friends
behind and the distance will cause some problems.”

The strain
would be too much, she realized. Itharann must be worried Sorntar would regain
control. Ashayna was careful not to let too much excitement show when she said,
“You won’t be able to control both them and me.” Itharann had plans upon plans.
What she hoped for was probably not something he would overlook in any case,
but she still held hope Sorntar was in there, fighting.

“An over
simplified view of our problem, but yes. Summer Flame will obey my orders, but
the mare is as stubborn as you.”

“You have a
problem.”

“One easily
solved.”

“How so?”

“If Winter’s
Frost is dead, she can’t give away our location.”

“I’ll
cooperate.”

“You agree so
quickly, no stalling, bluffing or bargaining. You surprise me again.”

She only
glowered at him.

Itharann walked
over to Summer Flame and Winter’s Frost and summoned a small amount of power.
After a moment Ashayna realized he’d placed a weaving of restraint over the
mare’s still form. Winter’s Frost neighed once in alarm before settling down to
wait. Her head hung lower, and her eyes clouded with misery.

Ashayna
clenched her jaw to keep silent. When Itharann was a handful of paces distant,
he called his power. Much faster than when Sorntar shifted between his forms,
fire engulfed Itharann and expanded outwards with a rush. The force of it blew
her hair back from her face. Shielding her eyes with one arm, she peered out
from under it to watch.

The fire
dissipated as fast as it had come.

Purple-black
feathers glistened in the jungle heat, with contrasting white barring on his
primaries and tail feathers. More white highlights accented smaller feathers
around his dark eyes and marched up into his vast crest. He would have been beautiful
had she not known what lay at his heart. Hatred rendered even the most
breathtaking beauty revolting

“Come, we must
leave.” He stepped closer, until he towered over her.

“I’ll not be
intimidated, Larnkin. Besides, you must be growing tired of your constant power
games. I said I’d go.”

He surprised
her by taking a handful of hopping steps back until she was out from under his
shadow. A giant beak lowered to chest level and she was looking at her image
reflected in one of his large dark eyes. “The power games, as you call them,
are as much your fault as mine. When you accept your fate and are willing to work
with me, your life will become so much easier.”

Free to move
under her own power, she stepped farther back from him while she continued to stretch
and loosen stiff muscles.

While his eyes
tracked her slightest movement, his massive talons dug up broad tracks of turf.
A slight bob of his head denoted an eagerness to be away. Itharann lowered one
wing.

Without a word,
Ashayna grabbed fistfuls of feathers and pulled herself up. Settling her legs
around the avian’s thick neck, she looked out over the cliff. A vast river cut
its way through the valley below, its silt-brown water flowed smooth and slow.
The wide brown ribbon cut against the green background creating a dramatic
effect. At least from the air she would have something to navigate by. For all
the good it would do her. If it was as Itharann said, and she was far from
everything she knew, there would be little use escaping into the jungle.

“Why am I even
having these thoughts? You know every thought as it goes through my head.”

“Ash, you’re a
survivor and think of escape.” His deep rasping voice was similar to how
Sorntar had sounded in bird form. “A trait I value in a bondmate. Though, how you
always overlook the most obvious obstacle is a mystery to me. You’ve never been
parted from Sorntar for any great length of time since you bonded with him. I
don’t think you totally understand just how horrible separation can be for the
hosts. May you be blessed never to find out.”

Itharann took
to the air in a stomach-lurching leap. The ground dropped quickly away below
them, until the forest looked like a green carpet below and the wide brown river
was no more than a thin line.

* * * *

Flying, while cooler
than walking, was still an uncomfortable way to travel in this sweltering hot
land. The air up higher was less humid, lighter, and the insects she imagined
she could hear buzzing below were absent as well. But those were the only
consolations. Sun scorched her skin, and made her lightheaded with thirst. A
headache was building at an alarming pace, almost as fast as the dark towering
storm clouds to the northeast.

“Do you plan to
fly into a storm? I’d rather not.”

“We are almost
to our destination, though the storm’s outer edge will reach us before then. I’ll
protect you.”

She leveled
another glare at the back of his feathered head and was tempted to yank out his
crest in frustration. “Still not comfortable with flying…would prefer not to do
it in a storm!”

“A distraction
it is then. Look along the slope of the valley to the left of where the
waterfall crashes down into empty air before hitting the next outcropping. Do
you see the spot I mean?”

Curious, and
with nothing better to do, Ashayna looked along the line of slope he described.
Jutting out from a living carpet of green were the remains of some stone work.
It looked to be a wall. Following the bit of old architecture, she found
another crumbling building and more fragments of walls. Itharann flew up and
over another towering ridge of mountains. The bit of stone work she’d been
following vanished under forest, but other stone structures stuck out of the
greenery, here and there, like the scattered bones of a skeleton. The tallest
buildings were accented with crumbling towers.

It was the
remains of an ancient city, long abandoned and reclaimed by nature millennia ago.

“Do you
remember it?”

“Home,” Ashayna
whispered. For long sanity-threatening moments, images of what it had looked
like then, vivid and alive, flooded her mind as her Larnkin stirred to life
briefly. It was larger and more glorious than Grey Spires, a vast place,
dedicated to study and learning.

“Perhaps one
day, should we survive, I’ll come back here to reclaim what was lost. The
Elementals have forgotten this place, thinking it cursed. Forgotten, it has
lain dormant with all its secrets.”

The giant
phoenix circled lower over the city one final time in silence, trapped in his
ancient memories. His wing beats increased, regaining altitude before he
continued farther south, chased by the thunderstorm.

“I need to know
where we’re going. Please.”

Itharann arched
his head to look back at her while they flew. His look was serious, but not as
hostile.

“We go to the
place of our deaths.”

His words left
a rock in her stomach, while kicking her pulse into a faster pace. Taking a
better grip on his feathers, she leaned forward and to the side to meet one of
his large eyes. The clouds and her reflection looked back. “You mean we’re about
to visit the place where we died last time, don’t you?”

“There’s
something I must do there. It’s better seen than told.” His mental tone was
emotionless again. He locked his gaze on the horizon and ignored her further
attempts at communication.

Ashayna
swallowed her frustration and looked beyond his crest to see what he was
looking at.

One mountain,
larger than all its siblings, stretched up into the clouds, in a seemingly
unending wall of stone. Itharann found a thermal and followed the swiftly
rising slope, higher and higher until Ashayna’s lungs began to labor and she
grew lightheaded and heavy-limbed.

Air cooled,
layer by layer until the cold was as uncomfortable as the oppressive heat had
been. Mist from clouds dewed upon her exposed skin. Behind them the storm gave
chase, stretching dark arms of cloud out before it. Thunder boomed louder and
flashes of light raced through the energy-laden air.

Ashayna didn’t
feel comfortable even with Itharann’s assurances he would protect her from the
storm. Something more than the storm was gnawing at her confidence. The air,
the essence of this place felt wrong.

Wrong like the
Dead King’s tomb, wrong like the Wild Path and the Oracle’s Tower…wrong like
the wardlen. She could not name it. Visiting the place of their death could
certainly be enough to cause her to be uneasy.

He broke above
the level of the clouds. The seemingly endless wall of rock did have an end.
The cone of an extinct volcano rose above her head. The crater’s center was
filled with a clear blue lake, so large it could be a fresh water sea. The
surface was still, glass smooth. The storm winds had yet to touch it. Itharann
flew lower, until his shadow vanished under him. The sharp scent of magic
greeted her nose.

The water
looked fresh and was the proper color, but Ashayna certainly wouldn’t drink
from it unless forced. Underlying the scent of magic was the same tainted scent
she had perceived on both Itharann and the wardlen. Fear crawled up her spine.
She wished Itharann would put some distance between them and whatever the lake
was.