Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1) (13 page)

“And if Savyr finds you?”

“My sympathy for humans is well known. He’ll assume I helped you escape.”

“Which means what exactly?”

“He’ll kill me.”

There it was again: that hint of helplessness and dark desolation in her voice that pulled at him.

“You’re giving up?” he asked.

The yellow in her eyes flashed to black. “I should have known living among my mother’s people wouldn’t work.”

The white lines of tension bracketing the corners of her mouth indicated she really believed what she was saying.

“You’d abandon your dream of freedom?”

“Dreams are for fools! It was stupid to think I could ever fit into your world.”

Her vehement denial prodded his guilt. He didn’t like that he’d played a part in crushing her dreams. He shifted from one foot to the other.

Again he wondered at the purpose of the journey the
Lady
had set him on. Was he destined to take Annika back to Sacred Lake? Despite the upheaval that would cause,
She
’d thrown them together for a reason.

He wasn’t afraid of a challenge.
Mother of Light
, he wouldn’t be where he was in the ranks of the Light Blades if he hadn’t overcome many already. It was just the potential ramifications and the effect it would have on others besides himself.

Did he dare presume everything would work out in the end? Would it? What path did
She
want him to take? Which direction was the right one?

Kalan ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps the choice should be Annika’s. The journey was as much hers as it was his. Even as he thought it, a sense of rightness settled close to his heart.

“Only the
Lady
knows for sure if you’ll find a home among us,” he refuted. “You dream, you plan, you adapt.” Her closed expression firmed his decision. “If you really want to strike out on your own when we dock, then I won’t stop you.”

Her gaze flickered behind him to where he knew Vash and the others stood. “What about them?” she asked.

“They won’t stop you either.” Her gaze followed his hand as he touched the amulet on his chest. He’d trust in the
Lady
to guide them both. “You have my word. The decision is yours.”

It took every ounce of resolve to turn away from her then and leave her to her thoughts. He prayed he’d made the right choice of leaving the decision in her hands.

Only time would tell.

Chapter 8

A
NNIKA could feel Maren watching her from where he stood on the riverbank waiting for Kalan to finish talking to Vash. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, as he tracked her every move. Other river-traders stood near him but he made no effort to join their quiet conversation as they anchored the ferry. His silent scrutiny stroked the nerves in her stomach.

Trying to ignore him, she settled her pouch over her shoulder then followed a set of wheel tracks to the top of the bank. They disappeared into a thick forest. One she’d only ever seen from a distance. She’d never been farther than Whitewater Crossing. Never dared.

This side of the river was human territory, a place no demon went without a Patrol or two as an escort. She glanced back at the river. How it had come to be the natural division between
Na’Reish
and human territory she wasn’t sure. Learning any sort of knowledge or history belonged to the
Na’Reish
, the privileged upper caste.

But the map on the wall of her father’s chamber had given her some insight. She knew the humans lived on the eastern side of the river, all the way into the mountains and beyond them to the plains that bordered a huge sea. They lived in cities and towns and villages as well as crofts and isolated huts. That much she knew from listening to the
Na’Hord
scouts talking among the ranks.

The
Na’Reish
were broken into a dozen clan provinces, with most living within the confines of a keep rather than spread across the land like the humans, even though as a race they patrolled an area similar in size. Annika couldn’t recall how many times she’d heard her father stress that strength in numbers and purity of bloodlines would ensure the survival of the
Na’Reish
. The
Na’Reish
had been bound by those beliefs for the last five hundred years.

Annika’s gaze returned to the ferry and Kalan. He would expect a decision from her shortly about whether she continued traveling with him or went her own way. That he’d given her the choice surprised her. Was this a way of getting back at her? Elicit her response then refuse? If not, then what had changed between him discovering her identity and now?

Despite her brave words about making it on her own, Annika knew she’d be lucky to survive a week alone on
either
side of the river if she went on without help. Perhaps Kalan knew this and letting her decide her own fate would keep his conscience clear and honor intact.

Her throat tightened. Should she remain with him or gamble on finding a safe place on her own? What was the right thing to do? She drew her cloak closer around her, wishing Hesia were with her. She missed her so much. The old woman’s advice always managed to calm her when things didn’t go to plan.

Trust in the
Lady. She
will guide you.
Hesia’s age-worn voice whispered the familiar words in her mind. How many times had she heard her say them? They brought her a modicum of comfort.

Hesia claimed their first meeting had been
Lady
ordained. Annika remembered the incident, not because it had been the start of a lifelong friendship, but because she’d been a scared seven-year-old hiding from a
Na’Reish
lordling intent on giving her something worse than a bloody nose. Walking through the snickleway on her way to a slave-birthing, Hesia had heard her crying behind a water barrel.

With a lot of coaxing and gentle words, the healer had treated her bloody nose as well as several other scrapes she’d gained in her flight from the lordling. A simple act of kindness but one that impacted Annika in the days and weeks that followed.

Some of her earliest memories were of tagging along behind Hesia on her rounds through the fortress. There’d been no reprimands or curses, just more softly spoken comments and, once she’d gathered enough courage to join Hesia by her side, explanations of what she was doing to heal her patients. With the knowledge of the humans’ letters and words a skill she’d been forbidden to learn by her father, Annika had memorized every scrap of information.

Then there were the prayers to the
Lady
for guidance and assistance. At first Annika believed Hesia and the human-slaves had been talking about an actual person, but the more she’d listened she’d discovered that
She
was a deity who offered them wisdom and comfort while guiding them in their journey through life.

To a child raised on rejection and disdain,
Her
compassion and love fulfilled a need she’d never known existed until then.
She
was also a part of her mother’s world, something Annika had always craved to learn more about.

The
Na’Reish
refused to acknowledge a deity of any sort. They believed only in the power of might, enslaving those who submitted, killing those who resisted.

Compassion belongs to the weak, love an illusion for fools.
The scathing words of a father who’d showed her neither one.

Annika dug into her pouch and drew out her mother’s Light Blade amulet. A familiar warmth filled her as she allowed herself to think about her dream of living and learning more about her mother. She smoothed her thumb over the small sun symbol etched into the metal disk. She knew nothing about the woman who’d worn it but had tried to imagine many times what she might have been like.

Strong. Compassionate. Loyal. All qualities a Light Blade warrior possessed. Physically, she knew the woman had blond hair. Annika hadn’t inherited Savyr’s dark locks. Loving? Probably, given the right situation. Most humans loved someone.

Would her mother have loved her? Annika peered into the distance, not really seeing the forest or the mountains. Deep down she knew what she wanted the answer to be but hovering just behind it was what she suspected to be the truth.

Having attended the births of several
Na’Chi
babies with Hesia, she’d seen the loathing and revulsion on the faces of their human mothers. They’d begged Hesia to kill their children. It didn’t matter that it was innocent of any of the crimes of the father. The babies had disappeared and when questioned, the old healer had refused to explain. Annika had never pushed her, fearing the worst.

Had her mother begged the healer to kill her after she’d been born? It was too late to ask Hesia but if she continued on to Sacred Lake, surely someone would know more about her mother and be able to answer the questions she’d wondered about for nearly twenty years.

The crunch of gravel under boots drew Annika from her thoughts. She turned, dreading her visitor would be one of the river-traders. She didn’t think she had the strength to deal with their suspicion and dislike right now.

The sight of Kalan striding up the slope to join her filled her with relief. Her breath caught in the back of her throat at his striking appearance. River-trader clothes looked good on him.

A strange heat burned within her as she began at the scuffed leather boots and worked her gaze upward. The faded breeches clung to him like a second skin. She could see each muscle in his legs flex as he walked but the material was still supple enough to give him freedom of movement.

The dagger taken from the
Na’Reish
rider hung on his belt, sheathed and strapped to his right thigh. A long-sleeved shirt fit his broad shoulders perfectly. The laces at its neck remained untied, allowing her a tantalizing glimpse of the tanned skin of his chest.

His hair fell in haphazard waves around his face, softening the harsh look that came with the shadow of stubble on his jaw. He exuded such confidence and self-assurance. Once again, she found herself captivated by him.

Her face flamed at the memory of him sprawled naked on the bank of the river after they’d escaped from the tunnel. Muscular yet lean. She focused on the bare skin peeking through the laces of his shirt. She swallowed at the thought of the warmth of his skin, the steel hard strength of the muscles beneath it. What would it be like to have him touch her? Like a lover?

Desire burned through her so swift and strong she was unable to move. For the first time in her life she wanted to be intimate with someone. Annika blinked, shocked at the direction of her thoughts. Inwardly she cringed as she remembered the expression on Kalan’s face back in the pit, and then when he’d found out who she was. What was she thinking?

Looking at him made her wish for things that never could be. She was neither demon nor human. He hadn’t wanted her anywhere near him, and she doubted he’d welcome her touch now that he knew who she was. While he claimed to be open-minded about her being
Na’Chi
, his recent actions had revealed his true feelings.

“Have you made your decision yet?” Kalan asked.

Annika refused to look at him as he drew level with her. Her emotions were nowhere near under control and she didn’t want him questioning the color of her eyes.

“Yes.” She squared her shoulders and, even though she was tired, reached deep for the well of strength she knew existed inside her. “The
Lady
guides us in mysterious ways, doesn’t
She
? Although this time I think
She
’s made
Her
will quite clear. I travel with you.” She glanced at him. Relief flickered across his face. So his offer of a choice had been genuine. “My decision surprises you?”

His smile made her heart lurch and her innards burn once more. “I wasn’t sure if my arguments had swayed you.”

“They didn’t.” His smile lost strength with her blunt words. She’d never hidden from the truth. “If I’m to survive, what other choice do I have?” There was no going back. Tucking her mother’s amulet back into the pouch, she drew in a deep breath. “I’ll be tolerated in your world, just as I was in mine. It’s the best I can hope for.”

VARIAN crouched to examine the faint scuff marks pressed into the moss on the boulder-strewn ridge. Placing his hand beside the indentation, he noted the size of it and knew it belonged to the heel of a boot. Someone short, light in weight. A partial footprint was impressed into the moss beside it. The depth indicated the second person was taller, heavier, and by the width of the print, definitely male.

He scanned the ground ahead. Small boulders protruded from the leaf litter as the moss gave way to rocky ground. There was little soil on this stretch of the trail, so it made looking for tracks more difficult. His lips curled upward as he spotted an overturned rock just ahead, as if something had caught its edge.

He followed the faint signs along the trail, his senses attuned to every scent carried on the gentle breeze, every leaf flutter in the trees above him and the sounds of animals in the undergrowth around him.