Guardian of Honor (38 page)

Bastien tensed beside her. "How many people?"

Masif tapped steepled fingers together. "Twenty confirmed
disappearances of people. About twice that of animals."

"Bad," said Bastien.

"Yes. It seems the horrors have touched us here—something
more than the frinks or Mockers. We don't know what. Our Lorebooks don't record
anything more threatening. It is interesting that the area first affected was
near the place where the Marshall and I disposed of the Mockers."

Masif met her eyes for the first time. They shared that memory.

Bastien draped his arm around Alexa's shoulders. Masif smiled.

Bastien traced circles on her shoulder.

"You think it might be something associated with the
Mockers?"

"I don't know." He glanced again toward the report.
"But it is interesting that no one was designated missing during a certain
time period."

"Yes?" Bastien asked.

"When Marshall Alyeka was away from the Castle on her
travels," Masif said softly. "The disappearances resumed when she
returned. And they seem to be increasing exponentially."

When Bastien's face went tight, he looked remarkably like his
brother, even a bit like his father, Alexa thought.

"Whatever it is will have to get through me to touch
her," Bastien said.

"I can see that." Masif nodded. "Good. The one
thing all the Masters in all the City and Town gatherings agree on is that
Marshall Alyeka is a boon to Lladrana."

Joan of Arc again. Alexa suppressed a sigh.

Masif smiled and looked much younger, more approachable. "I
don't recall if I said it before, Marshall, but welcome to Lladrana."

"Thank you." Alexa inclined her head.

Bastien drummed his fingers on her shoulder, tugged at her hair a
bit, like he was thinking hard. "I don't know if you've heard..."

Masif's gaze sharpened.

"The Chevaliers of the Field have seen dreeths near
battles."

Alexa had seen pictures of dreeths—huge, bloated
pterodactyl-things—in a Lorebook. She shifted a little closer to Bastien.

The Citymaster paled under his golden skin. "Dreeths,"
he breathed. "No. We haven't heard this. Things are getting worse. These
strange vanishings. Dreeths. The horrors are invading our land." Stern
again, his eyes met hers, then Bastien's
.
"We must stop this. At
any cost."

"I agree. I'll let Lady Hallard and my brother Luthan know of
your concerns." Standing, Bastien pulled Alexa to her feet.

Masif frowned as he rose. "Do you think we should notify the
Sorcerers and Sorceresses of the Tower?"

A crack of laughter escaped Bastien. "I'd wager they already
know. Who speaks to them on behalf of the cities and towns?"

Grimacing, Masif said, "We've expected the Marshalls to do
that for us. Either we will have to appoint a spokesperson or you will have to
ensure the Marshalls earn our trust again."

"We're doing our best, but it's a slow process," Bastien
said.

"One last thing," Masif said.

"Yes?" Bastien asked.

"There have also been accounts of an unusual gray dust—"

Something in his tone chilled her to the bone. Visions of Mockers
and frinks and people being sucked dry until their bodies turned into dust
particles sped through Alexa's mind. Since the two men were unnaturally quiet,
muscles tensed, she got the idea they imagined the same thing.

"Bad," said Bastien.

Masif nodded. "Very bad."

"We'll take care of it," Alexa said, not knowing why she
said it, where the words came from.

"Of course we will," said Masif.

"Of course," Bastien echoed.

Their walk back up to the Castle was different from their stroll
down to the Town. The silence wore on her.

"Bastien," she said.

He looked down at her and squeezed her hand. "Yes?"

She licked her lips. "I think I know what sort of horror it
might be. I think I ran into it."

"What!" All his attention focused on her.

She sensed his magic rising.

"That night at the inn, The Singer's Hand, I ran into
something. It was like a spider's web in a narrow passage. It tried to smother
me, but I fought it off. I thought... I don't know that I
did
think
about it." She'd been foolishly obsessing over Bastien the next day, then
had forgotten about the web-thing. "I suppose I thought it was a regular
bad-magic thing that I didn't know about but everyone else did."

Bastien swore. His face took on an underlying pallor. He pulled
her close in a hug. His hands rubbed up and down her back. "The things you
don't know scare me. We'll keep our eyes out for this beast."

He kissed her hard, then released her and they walked faster now
up to the Castle. Alexa tried
not
to think, not to visualize or
extrapolate what had happened to the towns she'd visited. Not to worry whether
something else was after her now.

Even though it was late when they reached the Castle, Alexa
insisted on speaking to the Marshalls about Masif's news. She considered it a
good omen that they were all bathing together in the main baths. She steeled
herself to undress and briefly appear naked before them.

The main bath was the turquoise and white one where Alexa
had been drugged. Because of that memory and because there
was usually someone from the Noble Apartments or one of the Marshalls there
when she wanted to bathe privately, she usually showered. She didn't think
she'd ever be comfortable bathing publicly in mixed company.

So she was brisk in her undressing, but still knew that her skin
was so pale that blue veins showed under her skin—veins that were never seen in
Lladranans. Her nipples were different-colored, and her pubic hair was now as
silver as the hair on her head. Her coloring made people stare—even the
Marshalls. And when Bastien stopped his undressing to watch her every move, it
made her blush—and that was even more interesting from everyone's point of view
but her own.

She jumped into the water as if it was always the way she entered
a bathing pool and she didn't care where the splash flew.

Finally she was settled in, with Bastien beside her. She glanced
from Bastien to his father, Reynardus, noting the scars on both their bodies,
the blue aura from the jerir that seemed easier to see in the rising steam.
Even though she knew Reynardus had braved the jerir twice and Bastien only
once, Bastien's aura was thicker, stronger. Wild magic.

He must have caught the tenor of her thoughts because he tugged at
a strand of her silver hair and said, "You glow like a blue star. Awesome.
Perfect."

She snorted, not believing that for an instant. Then she sucked in
a deep breath and told the Marshalls of their little trip to Town and the visit
with Sevair Masif.

Faith, the Loremarshall, frowned and suddenly a book plopped
gently onto the water, floating, green leather cover closed.

Alexa could read the title! Even curlicued letters in gold didn't
stop her. It said
Lorebook of Monsters.
She bit her lip and slid down
a little so the steam masked the stinging in her eyes. She
had so missed reading!

"Not a great deal of information," Faith said, then
addressed the book. "Unseen horror apparently able to manifest deep in
Lladrana in the towns and cities and able to move from place to place,
apparently feeding on animals then children then adults, apparently gaining
strength, apparently leaving no trace except gray dust."

The book quivered, sending out tiny ripples of water. The cover
opened and smacked the water, the pages riffled themselves to the end, then
back, then fluttered to a halt near the end of the book. Water beaded on the
pages, then ran off into the bath.

Alexa stared. Nobody seemed to think a floating book with
waterproof pages was anything unusual. Wow. Again wow. Would wonders never
cease? If she stayed in Lladrana the rest of her life, she figured some magic
would surprise her every day.

The Marshalls drifted over to the book. "Johnsa will image
for me," Faith said.

Johnsa, Faith's Sword, touched the tip of her forefinger to the
drawing. Her finger and the page glowed red, then a three-dimensional image
consolidated in the middle of the pool. It looked like a nasty gray cocoon.

Faith summed up the information in a cool voice. "This is a
tournpench, and it meets most of the qualifications stated above. The Lorebook
of Monsters is arranged by threat. As you can see, this one is near the end of
the book, essentially a minor evil on the level of a snipper. It is of little
threat to any being with three strands of silver at one temple, which would
include most of the middle class of townsfolk and above. The tournpench is not
considered a horror from over the border, but something manifesting from a
miasma of magic in a certain neighborhood or town. As it grows stronger, it can
move." She frowned. "This notes it should move more slowly than
Alyeka reported."

"Something generated by a town. That would make it none of
our affair, and Town or City business," Reynardus said.

"I agree," Johnsa said, and let the image fade.

Reynardus raised his eyebrows. "Does anyone
not
agree?"

No one spoke. Alexa struggled with an uneasy feeling. What they
said didn't feel right, but she was so new to her magic that she couldn't
describe
why.

Bastien snorted, stood and walked to the pool's steps, immediately
distracting Alexa. God, what an ass the man had! His back was less scarred than
his front. Figured, he'd always be one to face his enemies head-on—though from
the way he irritated people,
she would have expected
to see a knife scar in his back—He took
a dark
blue robe from one of those hanging on a hook in a pillar, wrapped himself in
it and stared back at the Marshalls.

"You lot are as unhelpful as ever." Then he switched his
attention to Alexa, and smiled slowly.

She thought the pool heated ten degrees with that smile. He
retrieved another robe and she saw that it was a lot shorter than the others.
And purple.

She was torn between pride that she had a robe like the rest of
the Marshalls and resignation that no one had asked her if she wanted a purple
one.

Gritting her teeth and trying to appear supremely unconcerned at
her nudity, she got out of the water. Bastien whipped the robe around her and
tied the belt, then dropped a kiss on her wet head.

"We must hurry and leave. I'd rather not display the aroused
state of my body to everyone in the room," he whispered huskily.
"Good thing these robes are thick."

He rolled their discarded clothes into the parcel with his new
mail tunic and hustled her from the chamber.

They walked through the Castle hand in hand. Barefoot, wet-headed
and only covered in the robe, Alexa should have been
cold. Instead her body was heated with the anticipation of
lovemaking.

Bastien bent his head. "You hurried too quickly into and out
of the bathing pool. I didn't get to see my fill of you. Only enough to tempt
me beyond reason."

Her heart thumped harder and a low, insistent ache settled inside.
She was panting by the time they entered her suite.

He dropped the parcel jingling to the floor and crowded her back
against the wall. Slipping both hands inside her robe, he covered her nipples.
She sensed he watched her face, but the small room was too dark for her to see
him. Slowly his hands moved over her breasts, then his thumbs and forefingers
lightly pinched her nipples. Magic combined with sizzling pleasure and shot straight
to her core, exploding her into a quick orgasm. She cried out and gripped his
shoulders.

Her release at his hands, at the smallest of love play made
Bastien feel more powerful than at any other time in his life. He could drive
this woman, this unique and special woman, to peak with a touch. Her heart
pounding under his hand, her ragged breathing and little pleasure whimpers
drove his own passion beyond delightful need to aching desperation.

Her skin was pale, her aura glowed blue, her Power jade green, in
melting layers that dazzled him. The scent of her was so alluring that he
doubted he would ever tire of it, knew he'd have to lick the sheen of
perspiration from her body, just to pull the taste of her deep inside him.

As he would soon be deep inside her. His blood roared in his
veins, drummed in his ears until he was deaf, blind, and could only touch and
smell her.

Agony and ecstasy.

He lifted her, so light, so soft, so exquisitely exotic, and
wrapped her legs around his waist. He wanted her lower, much
lower, but had to kiss her now. With burning lips he found
her cheek, glided his mouth to hers, slid his tongue along her lips. Jolted
from her the taste of passion.