The Darkness of Glengowyn (3 page)

“We can’t assume a friendly reception,” Einar finished.

“Should we try to return to Glengowyn? When the sun sets?”

His frown deepened. “One traitor survived the attack. He’ll tell the Sorcerers we’re alive and in the city. They’ll assume we’ll try to either return to Glengowyn or make the Sinnale border tonight.”

“You think they’ll attempt to take us again?”

He met her gaze. “They will come for you again. Yes.”

She didn’t miss his pointed omission. “You think they’ll kill you?”

“They’ll try.”

The very thought of Einar being killed left a hollow ache in the pit of her stomach. She might not admit to him how she felt, but her feelings for the Darkness of Glengowyn had remained constant for more than two hundred years. Even though she couldn’t have him for her own, she’d had the comfort of knowing he was on this plane, nearby, close enough to see and touch, smell and hear. He’d been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. He’d been her heart’s desire for so long now she couldn’t even begin to imagine her world without him in it.

To fight back the devastation even the thought of his death brought her, she lifted her chin and said, “You’re no easy kill, Darkness. They’ll be cautious.”

“You’re valuable enough to risk my wrath.”

Her heart tripped a little when he said “my” and not “the wrath of Glengowyn”. But she realized he hadn’t meant the comment as anything personal. He protected her because the king and queen asked it of him. Nothing more.

“What do you suggest?” She had to keep her focus on the situation. To think too much about Einar robbed her of her sense and reason.

“We keep cover here for the night. I’ll attempt to get a message to the Sinnale. And the king. You’ll be safer if they know to expect us. They may even be able to send aid.”

“You don’t think the minions will be sent to hunt us down here?”

“Both sides patrol Noman’s Land. We’ll be in danger from humans and minions.”

“That’s not really an answer to my question.”

He held her gaze without blinking as he said, “They’ll hunt for us here.”

“We have allies in the Sinnale. I still think we should work our way toward their border.”

“Not until I know our way will be safe. You’re too valuable.”

She snorted at his last statement and spun away. Goddess, how she hated being reminded every day, every hour of just how
valuable
she was to everyone else. Everyone but him.

She forced back that thought. It wasn’t fair to him. But a thread of bitterness crept into her voice when she said, “How will you ensure I’m protected now?”

There was no emotion in his tone when he answered. “The owls.”

She nodded in understanding. He had a special affinity with the owls that carried messages for the elves. They did so only because Einar asked. The birds weren’t trained carriers, not the way such creatures might have been trained in the past. Owls assisted the Glengowyn elves because Einar requested their assistance. The clever beings wouldn’t continue in that job if Einar died. Something most elves had probably forgotten.

Like they’d forgotten elves were physically capable of killing other elves.

That thought reminded her vividly of the life she’d taken. She suspected Einar had killed other elves before—though most would have been unaware of the acts—but she’d been subject to the taboo her entire life. She could hardly believe she’d really done it, that she’d been able to.

That she didn’t regret the act as she’d assumed she would.

Those thoughts led her down a path she didn’t have time for. “So,” she said, facing him. “We wait here for a short time? Or for the night? Will you request an owl come here?”

He stared at the floor, his brow furrowed. “I don’t like to ask them to come to Noman’s Land. But we have no choice.”

“We can move closer to the edge of the city, so they won’t have to fly too far into danger.”

“The Sorcerers will be watching the city border closest, assuming I’ll try to return you to Glengowyn.”

“You’re sure?”

“It’s what I would tell them if I were one of the traitors. It’s what most would do in this situation, given your value. So we’ll stay here for a few hours, watch to see if we’ve been found. Once it’s full dark, we’ll find a new location.”

“Toward the Sinnale?”

He dipped his chin in a sharp affirmative. “I’ll have an owl come to me in our next location, if it’s safe.”

She stared at him for a few more minutes, caught by his intensity. To escape, she glanced down at his injured arm. “I can wrap that for you.” She gestured to the wound.

He gave it a cursory glance. “It’s only a scratch.”

“But neither of us can afford to have you weakened.” She spun in a slow circle, then started opening doors. When she found a room that contained a couch, she led him inside. “Sit,” she ordered.

Without supplies, her only option for binding the wound was the hem of her riding robe. “Your knife.” She held out a hand without looking at him and pulled up the long length of material.

“It’s not necessary.”

“Don’t argue.” She wiggled her fingers, still focused on the material in her hand. His presence threw her off balance and looking directly at him made it worse. They hadn’t spent this much time together, alone and in close proximity, since…

She didn’t want to think about the last time.

After the knife hilt settled gently into her palm, she sliced a few lengths of silk along the split front hem of the robe. It would leave a wider V in the front, but since they had to travel quickly, she was considering cutting off the length completely anyway. Once the sun set, the early autumn nights were too cold to get rid of the over-robe altogether. It was designed to allow easy, free movement, with slits in front and back so she could sit astride her horse without the long material getting in the way. It had stayed out of her way during the earlier fight too. But those lengths of material could be put to better use. And the less she had to worry about right now, the better.

Once she had sufficient improvised bandages, she turned to Einar. “Take your tunic off,” she said, her voice as firm and emotionless as she could make it.

She tried not to be affected as he stood, removed his scabbard belt, then slipped his short vest off and dragged his tunic up over his head. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hold back her quickly drawn breath when the magnificent musculature of his chest was revealed in full.

This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him bare-chested, but the sight never ceased to stir her. When she looked up, she found him staring at her, his dark eyes black in the dim light leaking in through grimy windows. She swallowed and focused on his arm. Her heartbeat sped as she drew near enough to feel the heat of his skin and smell the tangy combination of his natural spicy musk mixed with the sweat of battle. With Einar, that combination had always overwhelmed her better judgment, targeting her most desperate desires. Only with him.

Yet another reason she’d spent so many years avoiding him.

Though her pulse pounded in her ears, she concentrated on making her hands steady, her touch gentle. She used one length of material to gently blot the worst of the blood away. Some still seeped slowly from the injury, but not enough to be dangerous. Once she’d gotten the area as clean as possible with a dry cloth, she used another length to tightly bind the wound.

His muscles flexed under her touch, which didn’t help. “Relax,” she ordered, her voice irritatingly husky.

He let out a long, slow exhale that brushed over the top of her head, and his biceps relaxed. She noticed at a glance, however, that his stomach muscles were tightly clenched. When she risked a peek at his face, his jaw was also tight, and he stared at the wall across from where they stood.

She turned back to her work, knowing she shouldn’t have risked this kind of proximity for this long. Einar had more power over her body and heart than any other elf. A fact they were both growing more aware of with each passing moment.

When she’d tied off the bandage, satisfied it would do for now, she stepped back and gestured at his leg without actually looking down. “Are you cut or was it just your trousers?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing as in no blood, or nothing as in you don’t wish me to bandage the wound?”

His gaze jumped from the wall to her and she took another involuntary step back. Heat, promise, need and something she didn’t want to admit seeing blazed out at her, an arrow right into her heart.

“You made it clear,” he said quietly, “that your magic was not something you could sacrifice. We should not remain this close. And I should
not
take off any more clothing around you.”

Her throat was too dry to even swallow. She could feel it, as she was certain he could—the
Shaerta
. Humans called it elf-fire. And sometimes elf-tears because it was addictive to them. Between elves, it was strong but didn’t cause permanent damage with exposure.

Unless a couple bonded. Elves didn’t form mating bonds simply by having sex. But when they did bond, when there was more between them than a casual encounter, the
Shaerta
forced permanent changes on them.

What would happen if she and Einar heeded its call, if they allowed themselves to truly bond, was a melding of their magics. The results were unpredictable. She wouldn’t know until it was too late what form her abilities would take after a bonding.

Queen Rohannah had made it very clear that, because of the special arrows Nuala had invented, Nuala’s talents were too valuable to risk.

“You agreed,” she said. “Without any argument, as I recall.”

She heard the bitterness in her own voice and was sorry for it. She’d been the one to say they should separate, knowing he would choose his loyalty to the sovereigns over her. She hadn’t wanted to hear him say it aloud. So she’d been the one to instigate the break. She couldn’t blame him for doing exactly what she’d expected, what she’d
known
he would do.

Even though she’d wanted him to argue. Even though she’d wanted him to fight for her, to ignore his loyalty to the king and queen, to ignore everything in order to have her.

Long-festering pain lanced her, her chest tightening under the weight of it. Even as the
Shaerta
rose between them, the longing and need for him so strong she could barely keep from moving into his arms, the hurt of their break brought tears to her eyes.

Appalled by the fact that he probably saw the shimmering wetness, she turned away. She tossed her remaining strips of material toward the couch. “Bind your leg. Bleeding to weakness out of stubbornness won’t help either one of us.”

She left the sitting room to pace in the large foyer, carefully avoiding looking back at Einar.

Chapter Four

As Nuala waited on Einar, she checked her own body for injuries she might not have noticed. Her arm ached a little and a large bruise covered her upper biceps and shoulder, but otherwise, no cuts or broken bones.

Her stomach growled as she returned to pacing.

“You’re hungry,” Einar said.

Surprised by his voice, she spun to face him. He was fully dressed again, his sword strapped back into place. Through the tear in his trousers she could see some of the green-blue silk of a bandage.

“A little,” she answered. “What supplies I had fled with my mare.”

“I’ve nothing either, I’m afraid.” He glanced at the front door, his scowl forming deep creases in his forehead. “I should have grabbed my saddle pack before we made for the city.”

“We didn’t know how much time we had or who might be nearby.” She might not be able to deal with him on an emotional level. But he was the fiercest warrior in Glengowyn. And he’d helped save her life. She wouldn’t allow him to berate his actions in the heat of battle.

She’d never allowed that.

His lips lifted, as if he was remembering the same fact.

Again, Nuala found herself short of breath. Einar was gorgeous when serious, but his smile, rare as it was, left her helpless against his male beauty.

His expression remained soft, the bare smile not faltering as they stared at each other.

Then her stomach growled again. The sound was loud in the quiet foyer and without meaning to, Nuala laughed. Surprised by her own outburst, she covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled around her hand. “I know we need to be quiet.”

“In that case, we should feed you or the whole of Sinnale will hear your hunger.”

She snorted again into her hand, trying to stifle her amusement. He smiled a little more at her reaction.

In an attempt to return to the seriousness of the situation, she said, “I can do without for a while. We won’t be hiding for long. Besides, where would we find food in Noman’s Land?”

“Some humans continue to squat in the buildings closer to Sinnale territory,” he said.

But he frowned and she knew he’d considered the same thing she had.

“We won’t be any more welcome by them than the border guards because we’re unknown elves.”

He nodded. “I can go out and scavenge.”

“No.” Fear tightened her throat. “I don’t think we should separate.” Though being around Einar was a kind of torture, letting him go into danger on his own was unacceptable. She didn’t care if he was the great and terrible Darkness of Glengowyn. If he got hurt, or worse killed, trying to find her food, she’d never survive it.