Chapter Sixteen

Oliana and Hathos cuddled together at the back of their stone cage. She rested along his right side, her head on his bare chest, his arm snug around her. The warmth of his skin and the strong beat of his heart against her cheek lulled her into a state of sweet contentment.

Despite the trials of the past weeks, she’d finally found her true love, handsome and noble as any hero in her books. That was joy enough to light the darkness. Together, they could face anything.

“When we’re free of all this, will you come to Dragonvale with me?” he asked, turning his face to kiss her forehead. “My family would welcome you.”

“Are you sure? Won’t they think I’m wicked, because of the slaves?”

Hathos had made it clear, he wouldn’t live in her father’s fortress. He abhorred the practice of slavery and believed the humans should be set free and given back their land.

She couldn’t argue with that, especially when he told of all the fine humans he’d known, including Orwenna who taught him the art of healing. Her own past looked shameful in comparison.

She’d always felt, in her heart, that the slaves were treated unfairly, but she’d never had the courage to confront her father. It had been easier to go along, accepting his authority and view of the world.

“They’ll understand,” he assured her. “You weren’t in a position to change things, and you’d been raised to think it all acceptable.”

“But I knew, deep down, it was wrong. I should have been braver.”

“And what would your father have done, if you challenged him?”

“He’d have laughed or lost his temper and had me locked in the tower for a day.”

“See there. What would you have gained?”

“But I still should have tried,” she insisted. “I want to be a better person, like you.”

“I’m far from perfect. In fact, years ago…” He fell silent when torchlight flared across the cavern walls.

The empress entered, and trailing behind were two of her pale-faced servants. Watching them pass by, Oliana wondered where the third one was. Had he been sent away on some grisly errand?

“Rise,” the empress commanded, arriving at the other cage and speaking to the eldrin prisoners. Two figures stood, pale in the flickering torchlight.

Oliana sat up, rushing to pull her clothes on. Hathos did the same. Hopefully the empress wouldn’t want anything from them. Since first arriving in the dungeon, they’d been left alone. It was unquestionably better that way.

“How is it my troops were defeated, when they attacked your valley?” The empress’ voice rang out, echoing through the cavern. The eldrin prisoners said nothing.

“Tell me, this instant!” Her usual controlled demeanor cracked, revealing intense displeasure. “If your people have a secret weapon, I will know of it.”

“We have nothing like that,” one of the prisoners responded. “All we desire is to live peacefully.”

“Defying my laws, hidden away like rats in a hole? You wish to see me driven from power. Don’t deny it. I’ve searched through your minds.”

“Then you must realize we have no knowledge of a secret weapon.”

“Perhaps you shielded it from me, with some trickery Huranthir dreamed up. He always was a slippery fellow.”

“The council told us nothing.”

Oliana heard desperation and fear in the prisoners’ voices. They had to know their lives hung in the balance. Nothing could be more dangerous than the empress when angered.

“Where will your council lead the survivors?” she demanded.

“We don’t know.”

“You must!” Her voice turned shrill. “There had to be a plan, in case I attacked. Where would they go?”

Still the prisoners gave her nothing. With a snarl of rage, she raised her hands, fingers curled like claws. The captive eldrin cried out, doubling over in pain.

“I will not be denied!” As she spat the words, power crackled around her. The prisoners lifted off the ground and slammed into the sides of their cage, blood splattering through the gaps in the stone.

Without a backwards glance, the empress turned and left the cavern. Her cloaked servants hurried after.

****

A fresh breeze lifted Vadin’s hair as he strode along. It carried only wholesome scents of the forest, all remnants of smoke and death having been left far behind in the valley. The memory of such pointless carnage haunted him, but he tried to keep his mind on happier thoughts.

Valla’s kiss for example. A purely delightful experience to dwell on. What a way to wake, with her lips on his, her dark hair falling around him like a silken veil.

Picturing it now, he felt an echo of his earlier desire. If only she hadn’t been draining herself of energy, he would have gladly kissed her all the long afternoon.

Since they had set out, she’d said not a word about their brief intimacy, seeming to pretend it hadn’t happened. He wanted to raise the subject, but caution restrained him. Perhaps she regretted the kiss, and forcing the issue might drive a wedge between them. In this case, patience was probably the best strategy.

Valla walked ahead of him, swinging along with a smooth comfortable gait. He admired the pleasing contours and movement of her body, the sway of hair across her shoulders, the slight bounce in her step. Everything about her appealed to him.

Was it possible they’d only met days ago? A comfortable camaraderie and undeniable attraction had blossomed in that time. More than he’d felt with any woman, in this entire lifetime. Of course, as Turrok, he’d been head over heels in love with Asahni, but that chapter was closed, and could never reopen.

“I think I see the dark hills,” Valla called back over her shoulder. She stopped and pointed through a gap in the trees.

Vadin caught up with her. Sure enough, there was a glimpse of barren gray hills, looming in the distance. In that same direction, the sky took on a different tint, edging toward the yellow he remembered.

“Only a few more hours and we’ll be there.” He couldn’t generate much enthusiasm as he spoke.

The hills looked bleak and inhospitable. Besides, reaching their destination meant the journey’s end. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Valla. On the contrary, a part of him wished they could just keep traveling, never facing the empress or the possibility of farewells.

“Too bad, I can’t fly us there,” she said, shading her eyes from the afternoon sun. “It’d be so much quicker.”

“But we don’t know how many swarms the empress commands. We can’t afford to risk exposure.”

“I know. It’s frustrating.”

She started out again, setting an even faster pace. The forest gradually thinned, opening up to bare slopes. Luckily their eldrin cloaks blended well with the rocky terrain, providing camouflage. A few patches of trees still grew along streams and sheltered ravines, but the safety of good cover continued to dwindle.

As evening approached, they found a river to follow. It ran mostly north to south, helping them keep their course true, despite heavy clouds that moved in to obscure the sun.

The farther north they went, the deeper the channel cut into a rocky gorge, until the river dropped more than a hundred feet below. The roar of whitewater rapids filled the air, drowning out all other sound.

Because of this, neither he nor Valla heard the empress’ soldiers. The wind blew from the wrong direction, so her dragon sense of smell gave no warning.

One minute, Vadin mused on how best to get another kiss from Valla. The next moment, he faced a snaggle-toothed barbarian, decked out in tattered furs, swinging a blood-stained club. Three more charged from behind a stone outcropping, howling feral battle cries. They wielded axes with blades larger than his head.

“No magic! I’ve got this,” Valla shouted, leaping into action. Her sword flashed in the fading light, taking one soldier’s head off before he could even grunt his surprise.

As tempting as a spell might be, she was right. His magical reserves were already low, and he would need all his power to open a portal home, not to mention the possibility of facing the empress. For now, he’d fight like any other man.

Fortunately he had a stout staff in hand, broken from a tree limb several days ago. Valla had also given him a dagger, when they left the valley. It was an encouraging sign of trust, and the weapon would certainly come in handy now.

Relying on agility and speed, against the soldier’s brute strength, he prepared to engage. He angled his body, to provide the narrowest possible target, and relaxed his muscles. Taking a rigid stance would only slow him down.

The barbarian swiped with his club, missing by mere inches. Vadin ducked to the side, and landed a blow to his opponent’s knee. It seemed to have no effect.

The soldier struck out, his fist glancing off Vadin’s brow. Pain flared and starbursts broke up his vision, but he managed to evade another plowing swing of the club. Darting in, he slammed his staff into the barbarian’s chest.

They circled each other, looking for an opening. Meanwhile, Valla spun and slashed her way through another two foes. She fought with lightning speed and deadly precision—a force of nature unleashed. Before Vadin could even draw blood on his opponent, she’d finished the rest.

With a quick stab, she put her sword through the final soldier’s gut and kicked him to the ground. Vadin watched with a mixture of relief and awe. She was a good friend to have at a time like this.

“You’re amazing,” he said. “I’ve never seen anybody fight like that.”

“I had excellent teachers.” She wiped the blade of her sword on a clump of dry grass. “My clan chieftain and his son are both masters. They taught me everything I know.”

“I’m glad of it. Without your skill, we’d have been—”

Before he could finish his thought, another band of soldiers appeared over the nearest ridge. There were at least a dozen this time, though more might be coming.

“Too many,” Valla said, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the approaching enemy. “We still have time to run.”

He raced after her, as she fled along the edge of the gorge. Behind them, the barbarians raised clamorous cries, giving chase.

The drop off grew more sheer on their right side, while the slope on their left steepened, becoming an impassible wall. This funneled them along an ever narrowing ledge, but it was too late to turn back.

Coming around a sharp corner, he saw Valla disappear over the edge. Before he could slow down, his feet slid on the loose stones of a rockslide, the previously level ground giving way. He skidded forward, tumbling into empty space.

There wasn’t time for magic or anything except an anguished stab of regret. Now, he’d never know just what he and Valla might have meant to each other. What a terrible waste, a precious opportunity lost.