Darkness Possessed (Order of the Blade) (15 page)

Her shoulders relaxed, and her face softened as she touched his arm. It was a soft touch, barely a brush against his skin, but it was riveting. "I'm so sorry you lost her," she said quietly, finally giving him the words he'd expected when he'd first said it. But he knew they weren't simply platitudes. She meant them, and for that reason, her words felt different. More real. Comforting, even. "Thank you for telling me," she added.

Zach nodded briefly. "You needed to hear it."

"I know." She smiled, the first smile he'd seen that reached her eyes, lighting them up from within.

She was so beautiful that for a moment, he forgot to breathe. It was like seeing the first burst of sunshine after a bitter winter storm—even more stunning because of all the darkness that had preceded it.

Grimly, he realized the truth. After not noticing a single female for over six hundred years, since his wife had died, he'd lost his touch in keeping women out of his line of sight. He'd noticed Rhiannon. No, not just noticed her. He had been sucked straight under her spell, just at a time when his teammate's life depended on him.

Her smile faded. "What's wrong?"

"You're distracting me."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You want me to stop my heart from beating?"

He blinked at her joke. "What?"

"Sorry. I couldn't help it. I thought it was funny." She grinned. "You made me feel better, apparently good enough to tease you, even."

He narrowed his eyes. "I made you feel better? Because my wife died?"

"No, not because she died, you big lug. Because you showed me that you have emotions, Zach, and that's a beautiful thing. It's been a long time since I've felt emotions like that, or seen them in someone else. I'd forgotten what it was like to feel."

Grimly, he shook his head. "Don't get too comfortable with emotions. I don't like them. You probably won't get any more from me."

"I think I probably will. They're a part of you." She smiled at him as she slung her mended quiver over her shoulder. "Okay, since we can't get help from the jungle, we're just going to go solo. We have one stop to make, and then we'll camp for the night. Then..." She met his gaze, her face becoming solemn. "We'll be at his lair by late morning."

Zach straightened up, redirecting his thoughts away from her as a woman and back to battle. "That's where he keeps his staff?"

There was a brief hesitation, and then she shook her head. "He always keeps it with him. We'll need to find him and kill him to get it from him." She turned away quickly and began walking through the jungle.

He didn't move, staring after her, replaying her words in his head. Her hesitation. The way her eyes had darted from his when she'd spoken. Son of a bitch. She'd just lied to him. Which part of her statement had been a lie? What was her game?

Swearing under his breath, he strode after her, the brands on his arms beginning to tingle, as they always did when danger was near. Was Rhiannon the danger he was sensing? Or was she leading him straight into a trap? Or were they being hunted?

He had a feeling he'd be finding out soon.

No problem.

He was ready.

As he followed her, he realized that he was really, really hoping that she wasn't the threat he was sensing.

Damn. He was starting to like her, wasn't he?

Was it really bad that the story about Zach's dead wife had put her in the best mood she'd felt in years? Did that mean she had turned into some heartless wench with no basis in humanity? Or maybe she was just some lust-driven harpy who thought it was great that the red-hot warrior following behind her was emotionally scarred and lovelorn, just needing a good woman to bring him back?

No, she knew that wasn't true.

Well, she did think he was quite beautiful, and that was such a rare occurrence for her that she wanted to leap for joy at the fact that she could admire him without being terrified of the fact he was a male. His grief had been real, and it had brought tears to her heart for the losses he had suffered, so she knew she wasn't heartless.

No, the reason his story had made her so cheerful was because the depth of his pain, and the mutual love between him and his wife had been so evident. The thought of a woman being with a man because she wanted to had felt like a lie her whole life...until that moment. Until she had seen love in that strong face of his. Until she had heard the love in his voice, love that had been genuine and not some mindless, terrifying connection driven by the
sheva
bond.

Zach had loved. Zach had been loved. It could really exist.
Not every man was bad. Not every union between a man and woman was destructive.

It gave her hope. Hope that life could be more than what she'd been living. Hope that maybe there were things in life that healed instead of hurt. Zach was a Calydon, and yet he was different. He was a good man, and he was on her side. She realized she was whistling, and grinned.

"You liberate me," she said, as she glanced over her shoulder at her escort. Zach was only a yard behind her, staying as close as he had for the last hour. He was carrying one of his sai, and his head was turning in constant surveillance of their surroundings.

He caught her glance, and his gaze narrowed. "Do I?"

Wow. He sounded annoyed. Apparently, being lauded as a psychological inspiration wasn't on his list of feel-good activities. Okay...time for a subject change. "So, we're heading to a place where my tribe stores weapons. There should be a good supply there to help us." As she said it, a spark of excitement leapt through her. Yes, her tribe had abandoned her, but she was still so excited to reach their cache. What if someone she knew was there? What if she saw a friend? They were far from her tribe's home base, but it would still feel so good to connect with them. She'd hated them for years. She'd felt betrayed by being sent off to capture José, and then being left there for a decade, without anyone trying to rescue her.

But now that she was back, the thought of seeing her tribe was so exciting that suddenly, she didn't care anymore about the past. They were her family, her roots, and the most important thing in her life. Who was she kidding, that they could have rescued her? It would have been a suicide mission. It was so obvious now, but for years, she'd been so bitter that no one had come to save her, that they'd left her to such a horrible fate.

"Weapons?" He picked up his speed until he was walking next to her. "What weapons work against this guy? He's a Calydon, right? Talk to me about him. What do you know?" His voice was clipped and intense, all business.

She shrugged. "Yes, he's a Calydon. His weapon is a scythe, but he doesn't fight with it much. He usually uses fire. He's an amazing warrior."

Zach shoved aside a branch blocking his path. "Tell me about the fire."

"He can generate flames. He can throw fireballs. He can ignite something a hundred yards away with just the flick of his finger," she said. An etching on a tree trunk caught her eye, and she stopped. Her heart leapt when she saw the double arrow carved into the tree. "Oh, my God," she whispered, placing her palm over the mark. "This is my tribe's mark. Someone was here." Tears suddenly filled her eyes for the loss of the family she'd once had. Why hadn't she seen any of them on her flight out of the jungle? God, she was so close to home, the home she'd left so many years ago.

She realized suddenly that Zach was studying her intensely. Embarrassed, she wiped the tears off her cheeks. She couldn't afford to be a weak female right now. She had to be the warrior she was trained to be, or José would defeat her, even with Zach on her side. "I'm allergic to this tree," she muttered. "It always makes my eyes water." She spun away, hurrying with renewed energy toward the cache. "Fire doesn't burn José," she said. "Sometimes he sets himself on fire and walks around, burning up anything he touches just for fun."

Zach didn't seem surprised by the information that José could set himself on fire. "Does water work on him?"

"A little won't do anything, but if you completely submerge him in a deep enough body of water that he can't burn off in time, yes, it'll shut him down." She noticed a well-worn path beneath her feet. It was so overgrown she hadn't noticed it before, but now she saw it. It was the trail of her people. She was on it! Excited now, she broke into a run, barely even noticing the branches slashing across her face.

Zach loped easily beside her, using his sai to cut them a path as they ran. "You don't happen to have an ocean with you, do you?"

She glanced over at him. "No. You?"

"Forgot it. So, we'll just have to fight him." He sounded thoughtful, not overly concerned.

"We can't just fight him," she said. "We need the weapons in my tribe's cache—" They burst out of the trees into the clearing, and she gasped, falling to her knees in shock at the sight. "Oh, my God," she whispered.

She'd found her tribe. Every last one of them.

Or what was left of them.

For a moment, Zach thought it was a festival of kites. More than a hundred white flags were hanging from branches high overhead, fluttering in the wind. On each flag were ancient symbols he didn't recognize, in different colors. Some had dozens of markings, most had several, and there were a couple that had only a single mark. On the ground in the center of the clearing, was a pile of white rocks, constructed into a pyramid with three red arrows jammed in the top of it, apparently straight through a rock.

Blue and yellow paint was streaked across the forest floor in frantic, random patterns, splattered across trees, and drifting on the surface of a small pond off to the left. Clearly, some sort of ritual or festival had gone on here. "What is it?"

Rhiannon didn't answer. She was on her knees, her fingers digging into the dirt as she stared up at the flags. He realized that there were tears streaming down her cheeks, and her face was white with shock.

His adrenaline kicked in, and he instantly called out his other sai in a crack and a flash of black light. "What is it?" This time, the question was different. This time, the question was tight and hard, laced with adrenaline. "What's wrong?"

"The banners," she whispered. "Each time one of our tribe dies, we hang a tapestry that details the events of her life. We honor her with a ritual that protects her soul in the afterlife. After we hang the banners, we use arrows to protect her soul. If she dies in battle, we bury her on site in honor of her sacrifice." She stared up at the trees. "This isn't our burial ground," she whispered. "This is new. These are new graves."

A cold prickle began to slide down Zach's spine. "So, every flag represents a tribe member who died on this spot?"

"Yes." She stared up again at the flags. "So many," she whispered, her voice thick with tears she was fighting to hold back.

There was a sea of flags, but there were only three arrows. Someone hadn't been able to finish the rituals. He was willing to bet that the last survivors had been struck down as they tried to honor the fallen. "How many people were alive in your tribe the last time you saw them?"

"Just over a hundred," she whispered.

Together, they stared up at the fluttering white flags above them. Well over a hundred of them. No words needed to be said. They had all been here, and they were all gone. Given Rhiannon's skills, he was willing to bet she came from a tribe of highly skilled warriors, ones who were well versed in the jungle and its dangers. And yet, they had been utterly wiped out. "Who would hunt them like that?"

She looked over at him. "José," she said softly. "My tribe had been in this jungle for a thousand years. We were the protectors of the jungle from any enemy. When José came in, he was more than we could stop. So many died trying to defeat him that we retreated. He was wiping us out. There was a prophecy that one could stop him, that one girl would be his downfall." She held out her hand and pointed to a seven-pointed black star on her palm. "The tribe thought this mark meant it was supposed to be me. I was sent to stop him when I was sixteen. I failed. And now they're all dead." Her voice broke as she stared again at the banners, then she sucked in her breath as she stumbled to her feet. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

"That one's mine." She pointed to one with a few green symbols on it. "That's my life story. It stops when I was sixteen." She looked at him. "They must have thought I died right after I left the tribe. There's nothing after that." She shook her head. "No wonder they didn't come. They thought I was dead." She stumbled to her feet. "I have to finish the ritual. I need arrows. I need to free them."

A prickle trickled down Zach's spine as she stepped forward into the clearing. "No!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"No!" She tried to twist out of his grasp. "Let me go!"

"Why is your banner here? You didn't die here. Wouldn't yours have been hung in your tribe's burial ground since they don't know where you died?"

She went still, staring at him. Then she spun around, searching the trees. He became aware of an eerie silence in the jungle. "There are no animals around us," he said quietly. "No insects. Everything has left this area."

Her hand went straight to her dagger, just as he would have expected from a warrior. "It's a trap," she said quietly. "For me. José knew I would go out there to finish the ritual."

"You think he didn't really kill everyone? That they aren't dead?"

"No, he definitely did." She shook her head. "Those are our banners. Someone in my tribe made them. I would bet that everyone did die here, and then José found mine and moved it here." She closed her eyes. "That means that he knows where our home is. Was." She looked at him, with heavy grief in her eyes. "If he found our home and was able to steal my banner, then there's nothing left of it. No one was left to defend it." She bit her lip, as if to contain emotions she didn't want to feel.