The Fire Lord's Lover - 1 (15 page)

   Cass had the sinking feeling he was leaving it up to her to decide. But it had to be obvious to Sir Robert that although Dominic viewed her as his possession, he held no deep love for her. To approach Dominic with the truth about her marriage might very likely get her killed.

   Or set her free. Their secrets from each other held them apart more than anything else. Was this the way to a true relationship between them? Her husband wanted her; she could be sure of that given his jealous reaction the other night. But would it be enough to protect her? She didn't know. And Thomas had told her to put her task before aiding Sir Robert.

   Truth be told, she wanted to be honest with Dominic. She wanted to know if her feelings could ever be returned.

   Cassandra folded the map, picked up her skirts, and headed back to the palace, determined to find her husband.

   But it appeared he had left the palace, along with his father, and no one knew when they might return or where they might be. Rumor had it that Mor'ded had instigated a search for a family who refused to bring their child to the upcoming trials, but Dominic's absence remained a mystery. Cass retired early, but her husband did not return to their apartments that night. By the following morning, Cass had memorized the map Sir Robert had given her. And remembered Gwen's unique magical gift.

   "Gwendolyn," she asked while sliding her arm into the sleeve of her day dress, "do you know where General Raikes has gotten himself off to?"

   "Oh, my lady, I thought ye'd never ask! Ye've been moping about the apartments so."

   Cass tried not to flush. "Can you use your gift to find him?"

   "Of course," said Gwen, closing her eyes. "He's that way." And she pointed at the north wall of their apartments.

   Cassandra frowned then picked up the map from where she'd placed it on the marble-topped table and opened it up. "Can you locate him using this?"

   "La, I've never tried such a thing before, my lady." But the girl eagerly bent her blonde head over the paper and traced a finger across the surface of it, slowly coming to a stop outside the palace, on the farthest edge of the grounds. The area around her fingernail showed a miniature forest, with a square box drawn inside and shaded to indicate dangerous magic.

   "What is that place?" breathed May, looking over their shoulders.

   "I think"—Gwen squinted her hazel eyes at Cass—"he's in the elven garden. They say the Imperial Lord made it as a reminder of his homeland, but nobody's ever been brave enough to go near it, my lady, 'cept the champion. Even the Imperial Lord don't go there anymore. Mayhap ye should wait until he returns home."

   Cass squared her shoulders. "Nonsense. I shall be perfectly fine."

   The two girls exchanged worried looks.

   "And I don't want either of you telling anyone else where I've gone, do you understand?"

   Both girls quickly nodded, unable to deny their mistress a thing. Cassandra blessed the impulse she'd had to rescue the girls from the kitchens. She'd never had such loyal servants.

   May and Gwen reluctantly announced their satisfaction with her appearance, and she bid them farewell, telling them she wouldn't return until evening. They both offered to go with her and Cass was sorely tempted. But she wanted to be alone with Dominic, so she refused them and gathered her courage as she made her way through the palace.

   Lady Verney beckoned to her with a wave of her gloved hand as Cass passed the king's withdrawing room, but she pretended not to see. Although Sophia had tried her best to champion Cassandra, the king's court had quickly picked up the mannerisms of Mor'ded's and started to avoid her. Although they did so with pity on their faces instead of disdain. Cass couldn't be sure which felt worse.

   But it did give her the freedom to roam the palace grounds, for no one would think to ask about her.

   When Cassandra stepped out onto the manicured grass, she wished she had thought to bring a shawl, for the sun hid behind the clouds and the air felt chill. But she wore a wool gown with elbow-length sleeves and a flannel petticoat, and her wide hoops blocked most of the wind. Indeed, as she made her way across the lawn to the wooded area in back of the palace, the force of the gale against her skirts threatened to bowl her over. Gwen had insisted she adopt the new fan hoops, which extended so far out from her hips that she could rest her elbows upon them.

   She hurried into the copse of trees, gasping as she caught her breath, the sturdy trunks protecting her from the increasing force of the wind. A storm brewed; she could smell it but she refused to turn back.

   Lady Cassandra ventured deeper into the woods, her skirts more than a nuisance as they caught on every branch and twig. It seemed unnaturally silent under the canopy, a stillness about the woods that made her skin crawl. Something rustled in the brush, and a black shape skittered off into the greenery.

   Cass eased off her girdle, grateful for the heavy buckle. If some animal threatened her it would make an adequate weapon. She stepped lightly now, avoiding the snap of twig or leaf, wary of breaking the silence of these woods. She followed a path for a time and then checked the map in her head again. Yes, she must leave this trail and strike out northeast.

   She had a good sense of direction, but even then, when she finally clawed her way through some dense undergrowth to confront a wall of solid greenery, she couldn't be sure she'd found the elven garden.

   Until she heard the singing.

   Not singing, really, more of a chiming, whistling sound. What in heaven could create such a haunting melody? Or more accurately, what in that fabled land of Elfhame?

   Lady Cassandra studied the wall of green, looking for some way to get inside. The leaves of the plants covering the wall—if indeed a wall lay behind them as she supposed—shivered as she took a step closer to the barrier. Surely the wind had caused that movement… but still Cass backed away suspiciously. Perhaps some animal hid within the undergrowth. She stepped forward and swung her belt at the vines, hoping to scare away anything lurking behind them, and glimpsed red stone beneath the green. The same brilliant red stone that comprised the walls of Firehame Palace.

   And yet she'd not seen or smelled a hint of the magical fire that permeated the palace and grounds. Perhaps the shading on the map was just used as a deterrent to visitors. Or so she prayed.

   Cass smiled grimly as she buckled her girdle back around her waist. Now she just needed to find the gate. But after several hours of walking the length of the wall, she could not find an entrance. The melody within the private garden seemed to be calling to her more urgently, and Cassandra decided a more direct approach was required. She kicked off her shoes, untied her hoops and stepped out of them, and used her belt to hitch up her skirts. She would use the vines to climb the wall.

   Not for a moment did she consider giving up. She would not go back to her apartments and sit around like a goose and wait for her courage to fail her. She feared she would change her mind and the opportunity would be lost forever.

   Besides, she had climbed trees taller than this at her father's estate. She had enough elven blood to make her lithe and nimble, and her gift of dance kept her agile enough to scale a simple wall.

   She had not counted on the capriciousness of the vines.

   They shivered again when she clasped the sturdy trunk, and this time she felt certain the movement had nothing to do with the wind, for even though the breeze penetrated the clear area around the wall, it barely had enough force to stir her hair against her cheeks. She carefully placed a foot on a vine, and then another. They looked strong enough to hold her weight but as soon as she began to climb they bent beneath her, dropping her back to the ground.

   "You will not stop me," she muttered as if the plants had some sort of intelligence. She huffed at her own foolishness and pushed through the greenery until she found the blocks of the wall. Like the castle, they weren't entirely smooth, and she fit her fingers within the cracks between them and pulled herself up. Somehow her feet got tangled up in a web of interlaced vines and she fell backward, landing in a heap of dead leaves and petticoats.

   She tried again and the same thing happened.

   Cassandra got to her feet, eyed the trunk of the vine, and began to tear away the small tendrils that sprouted from it, determined to prevent her feet from getting tangled up again. The storm intensified; she could feel the gale finally penetrate the woods behind her, and the vine shuddered and creaked from the force of it.

   She tossed away the ripped greenery and reached for more when she felt a pressure about her waist. She glanced down to discover that a vine had wrapped itself around her. Indeed, as she watched, another snaked around her feet, and she tried to jump to avoid it, but the one about her waist held her firmly in place.

   Another vine curled around her left arm and Cass tried to tear it off, a wave of horrified panic overwhelming her. She screamed, scrabbling at the leafy plant with her fingers while simultaneously trying to twist her body from the hold of the one about her waist. She screamed again while even more vines reached out to trap her, until one fleshy tuber managed to wrap itself around her head and over her mouth, effectively smothering her cries and pressing against her nose until she couldn't breathe.

   Lady Cassandra continued to struggle until her vision faded to black.

Nine

A strangled scream pulled Dominic from his dark thoughts. It came from over the garden wall, and it sounded like… "Cassandra!"

   Dominic vaulted off the pavilion that he'd been standing in and ran through the orderly garden, skirting small ponds and beds of flowers and sculpted bushes. Had he truly recognized her voice in that cry?

   He mentally scoffed. Who else would dare to breach the elven garden's walls?

   Without hesitating a whit, Dominic leaped up the stone wall surrounding the garden, grateful for the elven blood that allowed the feat, and crouched like a cat on the narrow capstone. He scanned the guardian vine covering the outside wall, looking for a hint of movement, but the gale from the coming storm shook all the leaves in his vision and the screams had been too far away for him to judge the location.

   "Damn."

   The wind tore the hair away from his face and billowed his linen shirt out behind him as Dominic leaped again, over the green vines to the ground outside the garden. Dirt puffed up from his boots as he landed and he rolled, then sprang to his feet with a grace and speed that would have had the peasants crossing themselves in fear.

   Dominic kept his eyes on the greenery as he ran beside it. His cursed father and his clever traps. Why should Mor'ded waste his magic when the plants that the Imperial Lord of Verdanthame created with his power could prove just as deadly? Although Dominic had been grateful the vines guaranteed his solitude within the elven garden, that had been before he'd married Lady Cassandra.

   He wanted to curse her, but he could not. For he suspected that she'd sought him out, and the thought that she could not stay away from him almost made him smile. He quickly suppressed the desire, another thing he had to blame her for, but ran faster, scanning the leafy greenery. He had no doubt the nimble girl had tried to scale the wall to get to him. She possessed a reckless bravery and a willful heart that betimes he admired, and at others, terrified him.

   Dominic had given some thought to the condition of the men who had kidnapped Cassandra and he'd come to the conclusion that her repertoire consisted of more than just love dances. Someone had taught her a death dance, and she had killed both of those men with seemingly little effort. She could have learned such a thing only from a few sources, the most likely being the Rebellion.

   His wife had been trained as an assassin.

   She hadn't been the first assassin the Rebellion had sent against an Imperial Lord, nor did he doubt that she would be the last. But they'd been clever this time, keeping the girl innocent while training her. Using Dominic to position her so closely to his father.

   Dominic had little reason to expose her. He knew she'd fail in an attempt to kill Mor'ded, just as he had failed so long ago…

   He tried not to think of Jack. Indeed, he ran faster, hoping the exertion would wipe the sudden thought from his mind. But he feared that his wife had managed to thaw his frozen heart for he could not stop the visions from replaying through his memory this time.

   He saw himself young and brash, having just won his first skirmish against the finest of Imperial Lord Breden's troops. He'd entered the hall amid cheers and adoration, and he'd been so green he'd allowed it to go to his head. He had gotten drunk and cocky… and his father had told him he was due for another trial. Dominic had told him to go to hell and had tried to gut him with his sword.

   Mor'ded had his guards haul Dominic to his room and had held him there with a ring of gray fire. The Imperial Lord had then summoned Jack. Jack, another slave who had not been raised from his lowly status because of his skill for battle. Jack, who had done nothing more harmful than befriending Dominic.

   At first Dominic had thought that his father would only threaten to harm Jack.

   But Mor'ded had made his son watch his best and only friend burn to death, while taunting him the entire time to call forth his black magic to defend him. And Dominic had failed. Just as he'd failed later to save Mongrel. After that Dominic had sought out Ador, relieved that the dragon, at least, could survive his company unscathed.

   With a will borne of desperation, Dominic erased the vision of Jack's bones appearing through a haze of red fire.

   He'd thought he'd buried that vision so deeply that it would never resurface. Damn his wife for making him acknowledge his human heart. It opened up too many old wounds.

   A flutter of lace in the wall of green caught his eye, bringing his feet and, thankfully, his thoughts to a skidding halt. He reached out and tore the lace cap from the grasp of spiky tendrils and caught a flash of burgundy wool beneath the green. He knew these vines, had watched as they'd caught rabbits and unwary robins within their coils. They twined around their catch until nothing could be seen but leafy greenery and then belched out fur and bones like some great toothy beast.

   Off to the far left, partially hidden in a thatch of tall grass, lay a set of hoops and a pair of low-heeled shoes. But thank the king for his fondness for lacy caps to adorn women's heads, for otherwise Dominic might never have found the exact place the foliage had swallowed his wife.

   Dominic spread his fingers, calling forth orange fire instead of red, hoping to avoid harming Cassandra while he burned away the vines. He made his fire a narrow stream, cutting through the smaller vines first, hoping to reveal the rest of his wife's body. He had faced battle time and again but had yet to feel the sort of panic he felt now as he spied a stomacher laden with garnets, a tiny waist encircled with a leather belt.

   For the garments did not move. She wasn't breathing.

   The plant sent out a questing vine in his direction, moving so stealthily he did not see it until it wrapped around his leg, injecting those barbed thorns into his flesh. He cursed, cut the vine away from the mother plant, and shook the thing off his leg. He felt the thorns rip out of his flesh with the movement.

   With calm fury Dominic slashed around the outline of Cassandra's body, the vines oozing purplish sap, quivering wildly from his assault. If it wouldn't have harmed his wife, he would have burned the entire garden wall of greenery. For when he'd cleared enough of the bush away he could see where green spikes had plunged into Cassandra's own flesh, seeking to suck her dry.

   He cursed and took a step toward his wife.

   A foolish mistake. For now the plant fought back with renewed desperation, no longer trying to be stealthy. Two vines wrapped around his ankles but he had to ignore them for the six that whipped toward his arms. He fried four of them, but the lower two each encircled an arm, preventing him from directing his magic at the trunk of the plant.

   One breath and barbed thorns sprouted from the vine, piercing his flesh again. Another breath and he could feel the pressure as the plants sucked the blood from his veins.

   Dominic smiled. Red fire bloomed on his body, his magic insulating him from the heat. But the plant had no such protection, and it could not unwrap itself from his limbs fast enough. Green twisted to black and thorns withdrew and shriveled, an odd sort of thumping noise emitting from the plant, like a stick beating a drum full of water. Dominic shook himself, black ash flew, and he raised his arms again, calling the red fire back to his fingertips alone, burning a wider swath around Cassandra.

   When Dominic had burned all the limbs surrounding the trunk that held her, the tendrils hastily withdrew from her flesh, leaving small puncture wounds of dark dripping red on her soft pale skin.

   He stopped the flow of fire just before she fell into his arms.

   Dominic sank to the ground, cradling her body, looking for any sign of life. "Cassandra?"

   Her lashes did not stir. Her breast did not rise.

   He called forth blue fire, ran his hands quickly over her body, caressing, healing with a desperation that he'd never felt before.

   The small puncture wounds closed; the droplets of blood dried and flaked to the ground. And still she did not breathe.

   Blue fire could heal, but it could not call back the dead. Still, Dominic fed his magic to her, refusing to give in to the overwhelming despair that threatened to overtake him.

   A weight settled in his chest, a pain far worse than his father's black fire. This pain would drive him mad. He could not lose her. He had barely just found her.

   "You must live," he whispered to her. "For without you, I am done. Done and done with this torment that I have been living. You cannot bring such light to my life and then take it from me, do you hear? Damn it, Cass, do you hear me?"

   And suddenly her chest rose on a sigh. And rose yet again.

   A wash of sweetness flowed through him, the likes of which he'd never known. A shiver that raised the flesh on his arms to little bumps.

   Dominic could not ever recall shedding tears. If he had once known how, they had dried up long ago. But his eyes burned and he had to blink to stop it. He gathered her up in his arms, whispering nonsense and rocking her like a child.

   His outburst had astonished him. It had come from his heart, which he had ignored for so long that he wondered at his words. Had his life indeed become brighter since Cassandra had come to share it with him?

   Despite the turmoil she brought to him, the struggle to maintain his distance from the world, he realized that in his fear for her he'd spoken truly for once. The time before he'd kissed her in the abbey seemed like a smoke-shrouded dream. He would not wish to go back to it.

   So and so. Her life had become precious to him, and yet she brought the threat of the greatest despair he could ever imagine.

   The wind twisted his hair with hers, made the garden beyond the walls ring and chime with their haunting melody. Dominic kissed her hair, the smell of roses filling his senses. He ran his lips across her smooth forehead, gently fluttered them over her lashes. Kissed the tip of her pert nose and the softness of her rounded cheek, at last finding her lips and hoping she would wake.

   But she only sighed and Dominic feared she might not ever wake. But he refused to allow his emotions to overwhelm him again.

   He would just have to be patient.

   The wind suddenly changed direction and Dominic looked up with a frown. A flash of black wing shadowed him for a moment, and with another burst of conflicting currents, Ador landed near. The beast should have looked less enormous out in the open. He did not.

   Dominic held Cass tighter, tucking her head beneath his chin. "Your timing is impeccable, dragon. Have you come to gloat?"

   The beast folded his wings close to his sides, blocking the gale that had battered Dominic, and turned first one doleful eye on Lady Cassandra and then the other. "Do not make the mistake of transferring human attributes to my kind, bastard. Besides, what would I have to gloat about?"

   "That you were right. That I cannot stop from caring for her."

   Ador snorted, gray smoke dispersing like spinning dervishes in the wind. "I am always right. Does she live?"

   "Of course. She is but asleep." Dominic narrowed his eyes up at the great beast. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

   "She is important."

   "Important how?"

   Ador widened his eyes in a human attempt to look innocent. He failed miserably.

   Dominic did not like the dragon's interest in her. He did not want Cassandra tangled up in whatever schemes might be afoot. "Keep her out of this."

   Ador huffed, filling the wind with noxious fumes. His talons raked the earth, deep gouges of uprooted grass and dark soil. "I can no more keep her out of this than you can, bastard. Take my advice. You cannot fight the hand of fate."

   "The hell I can't."

   That enormous scaled head wove back and forth. "You have been forced to become a warrior. To fight for your survival. But there are some things you cannot fight. The girl is caught up in this as surely as you, because love binds you both."

   "I will not let it," insisted Dominic.

   "Still you fight it. Human stubbornness defies all reason!" The sky chose that moment to rumble with thunder, the wind increasing with the sound, ruffling the edges of Ador's leathery wings. He spread them, pitting his strength against that of the tempest. "Heed my advice, bastard. Stop fighting your love for the girl. Allow it to strengthen you, for I fear that you will have need of it. And do not fight the girl's role in your life. You will have need of that as well."

   "I am tired of your advice, Ador. It has brought me nothing but confusion. Nothing but pain."

   "You speak of more than the girl. You have seen inside Mor'ded's door to Elfhame."

   Yes, Dominic had seen. And he wished he hadn't. Guilt and sadness washed through him. "Does Elfhame really exist somewhere?"

   The sky crackled again. "Of course it does. But it takes more than one elven lord to open the gate."

   A drop of rain smacked Dominic on the head. He rose, his wife a negligible weight in his arms. "I must get her to shelter." He walked along the vine-covered wall, noting wryly that Cassandra had been but a few steps away from the gate. Of course, she would not have recognized it as such, nor would she have known the elven word to open it. He would have to teach it to her. "
Shez'urria
."

   The vines shuddered, untangling leaf and thorn, peeling back from a wall with naught but a jagged crack between the stone blocks to indicate the gate. With a moan and a teeth-jarring screech of rock shifting on stone, the gate opened.

   Cassandra stirred in his arms, a frown marring the smoothness of her brow. Dominic stroked the back of his hand across her cheek, and although she still did not wake, her skin smoothed and she returned to a peaceful slumber.

   The sky rumbled again and Dominic looked back at Ador. A crack of lightning split the gray clouds, illuminating the dragon for a moment, the light reflecting off the black shiny scales, making them glow an unearthly hue.