Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1) (18 page)

She flicked a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “I have the physical strength to break free.”

“What if you were wounded or exhausted?”

“Certainly more problematic.” A frown marred her brow a moment before her violet eyes met his. The flecks within them were a dark green; a color he’d seen a lot of in this first training session. He’d labeled the characteristic as determination. “Taking into account your wide-legged stance, I’d try to disable you with a knee to the groin.”

He grimaced and conceded her suggestion with a nod. “Good thing I halted this sparring session when I did then.” Her husky laughter had him joining in. “I’ll talk you through one more move then we’ll finish up.”

Disappointment flashed across her face. “All right. What do I do?”

Kalan’s respect for her grew. Most novice warriors pushed beyond their limits when they began training, ignoring their instructors’ orders. Annika had followed every instruction and listened to his advice, constructive or positive, without comment. That, coupled with how quickly she’d retained what he’d taught her, impressed him.

“Without your hands, what do you have left to fight with?” he asked.

“My head, legs, and teeth.”

He grinned. She was also a more creative thinker than most. “Wind one leg around mine and plant it firmly on the ground. Good. Now push me backward.”

As she threw her weight against him he released her to use his arms to break his fall. A thick carpet of dead leaf litter helped cushion the impact. The late afternoon sun lit the delighted smile on her face as she stood over him.

“Use your opponent’s body weight and size against him.” Kalan propped himself up on one arm and used the other to wipe sweat from his brow. “It’s a move that gives you more options than you had pinned against me. You can now attack or run.”

“With surprise on my side, now would be a good time to use my Gift.” She held out a hand to help him rise. He dusted off his breeches. “Healing and killing someone aren’t that dissimilar. When I touch you with my Gift I sense the organs and vessels inside you as easily as I feel your life force. I can repair wounds or I can stop organs from working with a burst of power. It’s how I killed the
Vorc
and the guards.”

The small insight into her Gift was unexpected. Kalan wondered what had prompted her to offer it so freely and kept his tone casual. He wanted to hear anything she had to say.

“I understand now what Hesia meant when she said the
Na’Reish
couldn’t find out about your skill. When did you first realize you could heal with your
Gift
?”

“A couple of years after Hesia started teaching me about healing. We were called to an accident in the pens… a young slave-boy had been attacked by a
Vorc
, he’d ventured too close to its cage. Hesia couldn’t stop the bleeding fast enough. I felt her urgency, her worry and just touched the boy’s hand and willed him to get better. Hesia must’ve suspected something because she was able to treat and save him but she never said anything in front of the
Na’Reish
guards. Once we were alone though, she questioned me and worked out what happened. She helped me harness the Gift.”

They gathered their meager belongings from the base of a tree. “Did the
Na’Reish
ever become aware of your healing Gift?”

“Other than that one time, I never used it in front of them. Slaves talked, but little credence was given to what many believed were rumors.” She fiddled with the tie on her pouch a moment and her voice was soft as she continued speaking. “I was thirteen when my father summoned me to his chamber. He’d heard the rumors. He wanted to know if I could do what the slaves had been telling him, if I could manipulate the injuries; heal them or inflict pain.

“I denied having the skill.” Her face lost some of its color and a muscle flexed in her jaw. “He had a human child brought to him. He whipped and beat her. I had to listen to her screams, unable to do anything because he had two of his guards hold me when I tried to help her. They laughed as they made me watch.”

The hoarseness in her voice was as raw as the nausea churning in his stomach. Annika’s firsthand accounts of Savyr’s brutality only reinforced what Kalan knew about the demon king.

Jaw rigid, she stared out at the forest, her gaze fixed. He doubted she saw the wooded forest or rocky trail wending its way through the clearing where they’d stopped to train.

“Annika, don’t,” he murmured and reached for her hand. He held it tightly, brushing his thumb over her cold fingers. “You don’t have to tell me any more.”

“Yes, I do.” Her smile was bitter and brittle. The gaze she turned toward him was so haunted it tore at his heart. “My father whipped her unconscious. When the guards released me, he ordered me to save her, to show him my skill. She’d lost so much blood… I knew he’d use me to hurt others if I showed him what I could do with my Gift. His goal was always about being more powerful than the next
Na’Reish
.

“But I couldn’t let her die. I thought I could save her. I wanted to…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’d underestimated the injuries done to her. I hadn’t developed enough skill in my Gift to save her. She died.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “At least my father dismissed the rumors of my Gift as being untrue. He never forced me again to prove what I could do. Small consolation though.”

Kalan searched for words of comfort but there weren’t any he could offer. The grief or the guilt of being unable to save lives was a familiar pain, one that couldn’t be dismissed with blithe words.

“I’ve also held friends in my arms and watched them die.” His voice reverberated with remembered anguish and sorrow, but he spoke steadily and clearly. Her violet eyes reflected equal amounts of wariness and uncertain hope as she searched his gaze to confirm the truth. “I’ve sent warriors into battle against the
Na’Reish
knowing that the next time I saw them they would be dead. Worse still is that the warriors also knew it.”

She gasped. “They didn’t object?”

He shook his head, somber. “We all understand the risks of what we do. It doesn’t make it easier to deal with the pain of loss or the memories that haunt me, but I’ve learned to accept them. It’s either that or let them destroy me. I’ve seen too many warriors take that path to want to follow them.”

He drew in a slow breath, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb to ease the sting he knew his next words would deliver.

“It’s tragic the girl died but that misfortune saved countless others, Annika. You either believe that or run from the memories and let them cripple you.”

She pulled her hand from his. Kalan let her go, regretting having to be so blunt. There was a connection forming between them yet he didn’t want to force it. He watched her walk ahead of him and wrap her arms around herself.

“You’ll find I understand more about you than you realize,” he stated softly.

The look she shot him over her shoulder was guarded, almost fearful. He’d pushed her as far as he could. For now.

Changing his tone, he kept it light and pointed to the trail ahead. “Up ahead, a jagged ridgeline spreads to the east of the trail. You’ll find some caves, naturally weathered rock steps, and hot springs. Set up camp there and get a fire started.”

She frowned, suspicion tightening her features. “Where are you going?”

He held back a sigh. Their connection was weaver-web thin. Not that he blamed her for doubting his actions.

“Hunting.” He tossed her his cloak-blanket. “We deserve a hot meal tonight. There’s a half-hour of daylight left. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Heading into the forest, he searched for signs of animal tracks. Convincing Annika to trust him was proving to be a worthy challenge and, astonishingly, one he was starting to enjoy.

FINDING the location Kalan described proved easy. The forest thinned out along the ridge in favor of hardy bushes. They clung to the stony landscape with thick, twisted roots that looked like gnarled fingers wending their way into cracks and holes in the rock.

Pushing past a thicket, Annika detected a faint bubbling sound accompanied by a fetid odor that belonged to a hot spring. Rounding a large boulder, she found herself standing on bare rock flanked by a number of low, shallow caves. She was unprepared for the natural beauty spread out before her.

Like a giant stairway, tiers of grey rock stepped its way down the side of the ridge. Hot water pools, each ringed by a pale yellow residue, dotted each level. Delicate tendrils of steam writhed and twirled in the evening breeze above some, while others wore a thick layer on their surface, the stark whiteness broken by the odd bubble of air escaping from the boiling water. The brilliant turquoise-colored water was so clear she could see to the bottom where the bubbles originated.

“Lady of Light!”
she murmured and stepped closer to the edge. “Incredible.”

The largest pool on this level flowed over the rock-lip and into another below, creating a small, steaming waterfall. Crouching beside the pool, she cautiously dipped her hand in. The tepid temperature made her smile.

Putting her pouch inside one of the caves, she made short work of gathering enough wood to last the night and starting the fire Kalan would need to cook whatever he brought back from hunting. Then, kicking off her boots and picking up a blanket, she walked around the large pool to its shallowest edge, pleasantly surprised that the rock beneath her feet was warm.

Shedding her dress she slid into the pool, sighing as the warm water engulfed her. The strong odor was unpleasant but she was willing to put up with it in order to feel clean. Using the fine sand on the bottom of the pool she scrubbed away the dirt and grime then washed her hair. Her sore muscles ached for a good, long soak but Kalan’s imminent appearance dissuaded her.

She stopped scrubbing as her thoughts turned to the warrior, and she let the grains of sand sift through her fingers to drift to the bottom of the pool. Hesia had taught her the value of friendship; finding another friend as steadfast and accepting as the old woman was something Annika had dreamed about but never truly believed could happen.

She’d never told anyone about the death of the little girl—not even Hesia—yet instead of being repulsed and horrified by what she’d done Kalan had listened to every word, showing no horror, no revulsion, no condemnation. Instead he’d revealed memories of his own that troubled him.

Annika lifted the hand he’d held, watching the water run in rivulets along her skin. It tingled where he’d smoothed his fingers over the back of her hand. Such a simple gesture of comfort, one that had wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed.

Caring about what Kalan thought of her was becoming more and more important. She’d used her past to shock him, testing his earlier promise, preferring another rejection sooner rather than later. It hadn’t come. Her heart leapt, although whether it was in hope or fear she wasn’t certain.

Annika sighed, and hit the surface of the water, sending a wave splashing over the edge of the rockface. Perhaps she needed to leave her worry in the care of the
Lady
.

Raking a hand through her wet hair, she climbed out of the pool and wrapped herself in the blanket. In the cool night air, steam curled from her skin as she gave the pool one last, lingering glance before heading for the fire.

An evening breeze rustled the undergrowth and hurried her along in getting dried. Wrinkling her nose at having to get back into her worse-for-wear dress, she pulled it on wondering what she’d do for clothes once she reached Kalan’s home. With a shake of her head, she fed another piece of wood into the fire then began combing the tangles out of her hair with her fingers. Worrying about something she had no control over was a waste of time.

“I see you’ve taken advantage of the hot springs.” Kalan’s deep voice came from the semi-darkness outside the circle of light thrown by the fire.

She heard his soft footsteps a moment before he appeared along the same trail she’d walked. In one hand he carried a small carcass, already skinned and gutted.

“I could have stayed in that pool all night.” She gave up trying to comb her hair and watched as he knelt by the fire and sifted through the pile of wood. He set up a spit over the flames. “I might smell of rotten eggs but at least I’m clean.”

He gave a hearty chuckle. “With that recommendation, I think I’ll join you.” He held up his bloodstained hands. “Ground-burrower might smell slightly rancid come the morning whereas rotten eggs will fade.”

He toed off his boots and set them aside. She handed him the blanket she’d used as a towel. “I’ll make sure dinner doesn’t burn.”

Kalan padded past her, unlacing the neck of his shirt. She heard the slide of cloth over skin as he stripped it over his head then shed his breeches. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his powerfully built form silhouetted against the purple-hued twilight.

Knowing his back was to her, Annika stared in open appreciation, a twinge of guilt prodding her conscience at watching him without his consent but it wasn’t enough to make her look away.

The firelight gave his skin a warm, golden tan. She forgot to breathe as the flickering shadows delineated every masculine dip and hollow from his broad shoulders to his lean hips, tight buttocks, and long, muscular legs.

Reaching up to untie his hair, he shook it free and the dark strands fell to lie between broad shoulders. Light-headed from the lack of air, Annika inhaled deeply as he slid into the pool. His groan of pleasure sparked a smoldering heat that curled in her belly.

“Pass me a pillow, I’ve found my bed for the night.”

His drawled words made her smile. He turned and she averted her gaze, unwilling to let him know she’d been observing him.

“You’ll end up looking like a wrinkled old man, Light Blade.”

“At least I’ll be a warm, wrinkled old man. I bet you thought twice about curling up in here.” He laughed as her silence spoke for her. There was more splashing as he washed. “You’re partial to a hot bath. I’ll have to remember that, shouldn’t be too hard seeing as we have that in common.”