Bloodlust (12 page)

Lukor wished her hand would burn. How dare she try to comfort him. Her race was an abomination. He would kill her himself.

Why was he still here? Now that he had the shield, he should be making off to Ordisium. But fighting her himself could quite possibly result in his death. As much as he hated to admit it, she was as fine a warrior as him, if not more so. If he fled, she might still be able to kill him. He could not risk leaving now. Once she, and he for that matter, learned what the message contained, she'd willingly let him go.

Or kill me where I stand.

Perhaps he
should
kill her right now. Her back was to him, her head lowered. His hand reached for a hidden short sword within his boot. And hesitated. She truly was genuine about wanting to save her race. She was capable of caring. A barbarian. He had never thought that possible.

A jagged, start-shaped scar on the back of her left shoulder caught his eye when the wind blew her hair out of the way. She was strong, tough. If a barbarian could figure out a means to cheat death, she alone was that one.

She squeezed his knee and stood, facing him. "You would condemn an entire race for the ill of one?" Ivy closed her eyes, and a flicker of pain crossed her shadowed features.

"You know well the evils barbarians can wreak upon the earth."

She swallowed hard, and her eyes flew open. "Aye."

"Whole villages destroyed because of Bloodlust. Tell me, barbarians claim they cannot control themselves — when it overtakes them or during it. Is that true?"

Ivy nodded curtly. "I guess I do not blame you for that. For hating us. For hating me."

"I do hate you." A muscle twitched in his neck. A flicker of emotion flashed in her eyes, and he looked away, feeling so conflicted and uncertain himself. "But I also respect you."

He hadn't realized he truly did until he said so and could not determine when exactly he had started to. How curious, but nothing would prevent him from striking her down with all the other barbarians. He had sworn he'd kill every last barbarian for what had been done to his sister. He could never lose sight of his goal. No matter how close he became with Ivy.

She sat a foot away from him, her skirt riding up to bare some of her long, muscular legs. "We can wait until morning, since you're obviously in no hurry to find this person."

Although shadows drenched her face, he could still see the darkness beneath her eyes. When had she last slept well? When had he?

"If you want to press on, we can," he offered despite longing for rest. "But some of the caves are unstable now. There have been rockslides and some paths the dwarves rigged. I fear for our lives should I mistakenly bring us down the wrong path."

"Your life," she retorted, nostrils flaring slightly.

"Get over yourself." He snorted through his nose. "I am still here. I made you a promise. You have kept your end of the bargain, and so shall I. You will learn of the trolls' plans."

Soon, the barbarian-princess fell asleep sitting upright, her head hanging down low, dark blond hair draping her. His leg muscles twitched with suppression, wanting to jump up and flee, but he stayed, biding his time for he also wanted to know what the trolls' message contained. Perhaps he would kill her afterward, and send her head, and not her shield, to her father. Why did that thought not please him as much as before?

By now, she had slumped awkwardly over to the side. Before he could blink, he stood and eased her flat onto her back. The frightened expression on her face eased for a second, dissipating into relief. The instance he stopped touching her, her features twisted again. Curious, Lukor touched her shoulder, and once more, she relaxed. He lay down beside her, her back facing him as she slept with his hand on her shoulder. War and battles and death surrounded them, the blight of their world. For one night, if he could give her peace, he would.

That night, Lukor, too, slept better than he had in years.

Mercifully, he woke first and stretched. Ivy immediately sat up and looked around. When she turned and saw him, her purple eyes widened. "I thought you had left."

"Respect," he grumbled.

She dipped her head, almost bowing instead of nodding, and stood. Her hand stretched toward him, and although he did not need her aid nor wanted it, he accepted it and climbed to his feet.

"Which way?" She craned her tanned, slender neck.

"Let us break our fast first." He retrieved two large maple nuts from holly maple trees from his oversized sack. Twice the size of his large hand, the nuts were a delicious treat, crunchy and filling. The barbarian-princess stared at the huge nut in her hand for several moments. Lukor half-finished his before he said, "It's not going to bite you."

She wrinkled her nose and took a small bite. Then a larger one. In time, Ivy finished hers a few seconds after Lukor polished off his.

"Not bad." She licked her lips.

"Eat mostly animals?"

"Almost exclusively."

"We goliaths eat both plants and animals. Our citadel contains a tree garden. Plants from all over the world are grown there. We harvest the nuts and berries and fruit and vegetables."

"A tree garden? Must be lovely." She averted her gaze, most likely thinking how none save for goliaths ever see Orda Citadel, that she'd never have the chance to see it. Did she, too, like to explore? Mayhap curiosity was a feminine trait.

"Perhaps, one day you can see it."

Ivy lifted her chin slightly as she stared at him. "Before you kill me." Her voice was faint but hard. "At least I would die in a beautiful place. I trust the tree garden is beautiful?"

"Very beautiful. And I'll make sure your death is quite quick."

"But painful." She stepped forward, her body an inch from his, the skirt of her armored dress touching his dark pants.

"Painless."

Her lips quirked into a faint smile. "If I were to kill you first, it would be both quick and painless as well."

"Then it shall have to remain to be seen whose reaction time is faster." He grabbed his axe, but the tip of her sword already touched his nose.

Ivy grinned. "I have the quicker draw."

"Ah, but I have the longer reach. And I've already bled you."

Her eyes narrowed as she tucked her sword into its sheath. "That shall be the first and only time you best me. Now, shall I remove my blade once more or will you stop stalling and find the correct path?"

"Do you not trust me?" Lukor ran his thumb against the sharp edge of one of the mooned axe blades. His skin easily slit open, the wound superficial. When she did not respond, he eyed her. Her teeth worried her lower lip.

She took a deep breath. "If I did not trust you, I never would have slept around you. Yet I have."

"How did you sleep last night?"

"Stop delaying!" Her hand moved toward her hilt.

His axe swinging by his side, Lukor stepped forward. With the increased lighting of the rising sun, he could see the distinctions in the stone, the subtle variances in color from beige to cream to ecru, the layers of stone the dwarves had added later on to increase their stone domain.

"Rather well," Ivy said suddenly, and Lukor knew she was referring to her slumber. A wide grin stretched across his face. She'd never know the role he'd played. Never again though.

Up they climbed until the air grew thin, then around toward the other side. A rockslide had ruined the small stone bridge they needed to cross.

"Why have you stopped?" Ivy snapped.

Her wild mood swings did not bother him, not as they had previously. He rather expected them now.

She skittered to his side, most likely because she could not see over his shoulder. "Can we not climb around it?"

He pointed to the large rock teetering above them, a spray of smaller stones and pebbles falling down the side. "We would have to hurry."

Ivy pushed on his back. "Go on then."

The rockslide had been large enough for a few rocks to be used as jumping stones to cross the ruined bridge. Lukor moved swiftly, leaping from rock to rock. The next stone was fairly small, and it crumbled away beneath his weight.

"Be careful!" Ivy called out.

As if he needed to be told that. Foolish barbarian girl. Too emotional for her own good. A distraction he did not appreciate.

His axe slammed into the rock, and he hung there, his legs dangling. A large jagged rock, sharp to a point, greeted him from feet below. From this height, it would surely pierce him should he fall.

Which he had no intention of doing.

The coldness of the air made the sweat on his palms even more slippery. He swung his legs back and forth, creating momentum, and jumped. His fingers gripped the harsh, jagged rock edges, and he pulled himself up easily. His axe he'd left behind. Two more jumps, and he'd reached the other side.

He turned around to see Ivy already crossing. She held her skirts high, revealing her pale legs, a striking contrast to her tanned arms and face. Her dainty feet pointed as she leapt into the air and landed with grace. When she reached the midway point, the huge boulder tumbled forth from its precarious perch, aiming straight for her. He swallowed back his warning shout as her gaze caught his. Perhaps she read his stricken expression for she glanced up. Before Lukor could take another breath, the boulder pulverized the last remnants of the bridge, blocking her from sight.

Lukor jumped back onto a rock at the same time Ivy appeared out of nowhere, her skirt billowing up like a cloud, his axe in her hand. She landed in his arms, dropping the axe to the ground. Mercifully, the sharp edge missed their feet, albeit narrowly. The collusion forced him to tumble backward. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, saving them from falling. Their hands joined, they made the final jump together, as one.

Even though they had both reached safety, Lukor still embraced her.

Her eyes sparkled in the growing violet sunlight. "You did not care for my warning, so you gave me none."

A chuckle burst out of his mouth. "You managed quite fine."

"Would you have wept for me had the boulder dashed me into pieces?" She pulled back slightly but neglected to free herself from him. Her heart pounded, he knew, feeling it through her small wrist. "Had it robbed you the chance to kill me yourself?"

"Perhaps." His voice was low, almost husky. For a moment, he hadn't wanted her to die.

"Your face..." She shook her head. "You looked so sorrowful." Ivy bit her lower lip, her tone full of surprise. "Didn't you see me scale the boulder and leap off it to reach the last rock? I feared I wouldn't quite make it."

A tear streaked down. Ivy turned her face aside, but his hand moved it back. His thumb captured the droplet and flicked it away. "'Tis natural to fear death."

"You do not," she claimed.

"You speak the truth."

"So you can join whomever you saw in the Spirit Realm? Your wife?"

"Sister." Clearing his throat with a grunt, he pulled away and retrieved his axe. "Come. It's not much farther now."

Past the ruined bridge, the sand changed from beige to darker, ashen tones. Beneath an overhang, a small outline of desert sand colored stone stood exactly where Lukor knew it would be. He shoved his shoulder against the massive boulder — the size of a small mountain itself.

"Move aside." Ivy pushed him out of the way and proceeded to move the mountain — not.

He could not prevent his smirk.

She blew breath out of her mouth, and her hair billowed around her face. "Attack me."

Lukor furrowed his brows. "Come again?"

"With your axe. If you incite my Bloodlust—"

"You'll kill me."

Now she smirked. "You already survived once."

Aye, because he had hid beneath the body of a fallen enemy, holding his breath until his lungs burned, trying to think of peaceful things to keep his heart beating slower. Here, he had no place to hide, nothing else to distract her from killing him. He swallowed hard. Perhaps he did fear death to some extent. "You are certain you can control yourself?"

"Of course not." She tapped her foot impatiently against the rock they stood upon. "Are you too cowardly to try? I... I do not blame you for not trusting me. I can't control it. No barbarian can. It is a boon in battle. Increases our strength a thousand fold. Without that might, we will never be able to move the boulder."