Maiden's Wolf (In Deception's Shadow Book 3) (16 page)

“Then…why did you
bolt at the waterfall.”

“Cowardice.”

“Ah…”

“I know how it
hurt when only my lupwyn heart was involved. Yet with you it feels like I’ve
known you all my life. I fear my phoenix heart has awakened and has already
chosen you. In reality, I barely know you but I think I’ve fallen in love—that
terrifies me more than a little. You’re also human and don’t know the way of
phoenix courtship.”

Beatrice was
silent for a long time and it was his turn to squirm uncomfortably.

“I was born
human. I can do nothing about that physically, but I am equally certain my
heart and soul are loyal. If we were ever to become mates, I would be loyal to
you and would never do anything to harm you. And if you grant me permission, I
will court you for however long is customary for phoenix to prove it.”

He grinned. “A
hundred years is customary unless the phoenix are also bondmates,” he said and saw
no reason to withhold his other theory. “I think are Larnkins might become
bondmates in time.”

“A hundred years?
Bondmates?”

“Phoenix are
cautious with their hearts.”

“You’re
half-lupwyn.”

“Yes? Your
point?”

Beatrice licked
her lower lip and he found it far too fascinating. “I was hoping to have
children before I’m a hundred.”

“You’re host to a
powerful Larnkin. You’re likely immortal.”

She muttered
something unladylike under her breath. “What if we are these bondmates?”

“It may also take
years for my Larnkin to recover and forge the spirit link between our two
Larnkins.”

“So it will
likely be a number of years either way? But you will allow me to court you and
gain your trust?”

“Yes, but never
fear, my beautiful little healer, I doubt I’ll make one hundred days let alone
one hundred years of courtship. Although, I’d still like my hundred days.”

“Only a hundred
days? That few?” Beatrice laughed, the sound so full of delight it made his
pulse race. “So do I have your permission to start this courtship now?”

“Yes.” His lips
pulled back in a grin. “I think I’ll enjoy your courtship.”

And Beatrice,
true to her word, began right then even though they were both tired from the
long day. More than content, he basked in the combination of the fire’s heat
and Beatrice’s small hands as they lightly stroked his chest. Her touch was
tentative at first, but quickly grew more confident as she explored.

He resisted the
urge to drag her closer for a kiss. Trust might be something that normally was
built over time, but he already trusted her with his life. Her enthusiasm and
easy acceptance made trusting her with his heart just as easy. However, now was
hardly the time to get carried away.

But once this
business of ridding the land of acolytes was complete and peace once more
flowed across the land, he decided he would make sure Beatrice had as many
children by him as he could give her. It didn’t matter to him if this courtship
lasted a hundred days or a hundred years, he’d still eagerly await Beatrice.

When they set out
again the next morning, Silverblade was glad to see the easy camaraderie
between them had survived the previous night’s events where he’d had to stop
her after a few heated caresses. He’d claimed they both needed to
sleep—alone—so they would be rested up come morning. Which was true. Last night
had been a lovely, sweet distraction that had the benefit of strengthening his
Larnkin, but now the mission came first.

They were in a
battle for their lives and his personal wishes and needs must come second. And
unfortunately, so too must Beatrice’s. Though he hadn’t told her in so many
words. He did not want to hurt her.

Now, they were
riding double again, the big draft gelding having recovered. The forest was
quiet. His senses found the cause a few moments later when the wind shifted and
carried the scent of a big cat to him. He did not fear it. This one was moving
away, its scent growing weaker by the moment. It was wise enough to avoid
tangling with a lupwyn.

But still, it was
a relief to know the forest around him was hushed because of a hunting cat and
not a group of acolytes.

“Silverblade?”
Beatrice’s voice held unnatural tension. “I sense something. Magic. But it’s a
kind unfamiliar to me.”

His Larnkin
roused but went still inside him again after three heartbeats.

Did that mean
there was no threat? Or that his Larnkin was just too weak to sense it?
Silently cursing his new magical infirmity, he stretched his physical senses as
far as they would go. It wasn’t enough to pick up whatever she sensed.

Something else
occurred to him then. Just because he couldn’t sense the power didn’t mean she
couldn’t describe it to him or destroy it if it proved a danger.

“Describe the
feel of the power.”

Beatrice glanced
over her shoulder at him, her brows furrowing in thought.

“It feels like
heat, and a deep resentfulness. A wild power that does not want to be
controlled. If I was to guess, I would say it is some kind of fire magic. But
far stronger than any I have ever encountered.”

And just like
that, Silverblade decided she described a Gate perfectly. Gate magic was a type
of fire magic that usually only a phoenix could control.

His mother had
tried to teach him, but even being half-phoenix himself hadn’t been enough.
He’d never mastered the control needed to form a Gate. Not one that was stable
enough to safely carry travelers from one place to another.

The memory of his
mother’s training reignited the pain he’d shoved to the side over the past
several days. So much so that now, it almost seemed unreal. It didn’t seem
possible that she was gone. But she was. And she would never walk out of
another Gate to come visit him again. Bitterness engulfed him. She would be
avenged once all the acolytes were dead.

To Beatrice he
said, “I think it’s likely a Gate. To the best of my knowledge, that is power
the acolytes have yet to steal. It must be one of the Elementals. Perhaps even
a rescue group searching for us. They will already know something went wrong
when the delegation did not report in.” Silverblade looked around again,
studying the forest, desperately willing his senses to sharpen. “Can you tell
the direction of the disturbance?”

Again, Beatrice
furrowed her brows as she looked around, clearly trying to pinpoint the
direction of the power.

“It is too
broad—too powerful. It’s sending ripples out in all directions. Hmmm…wait… the
greatest concentration seems to be coming from the northeast of us. There.” She
pointed in the direction.

Silverblade urged
the gelding towards that location.

“We’re almost
upon it.” Beatrice’s voice sounded calm, but he could feel the tension in her
body.

He couldn’t fault
her for being edgy, not after everything that had befallen them. While he was
reasonably confident that what was going to come through the Gate was friend
not foe, he halted the gelding at the edge of the tree line as a precaution.

Looking out
between the trees, he witnessed the beginnings of a Gate forming. Already two
tall pillars of flame danced at the center of the clearing. Ropes of fire magic
coiled in upon themselves. Arching up from the ground, they shimmered in reds
and golds, almost like true fire. But it swiftly changed to green and then an
icy blue-white, destroying any illusion that this was simple fire.

The willful elemental
magic fought, unwilling to be controlled. Even so, it was soon forced into
obedience by those on the other side. The magic shifted again. Calming slowly,
the individual flames merged into each other until two smooth columns of power
stretched towards the sky. When they were three times the height of a man, the
two columns arched inward until they touched, forming one solid structure.

Filaments of magic
darted out from the insides of the pillars, shooting towards the middle,
forming a wall of power. And then with a deep, droning tone, the silvery fire
within the archway vanished, leaving a view to another location.

Silverblade still
kept the gelding hidden in the trees as he waited for the Gate creators to appear.
Heartbeats later, a group of santhyrians galloped through. Flanking them were
several heavily armored lupwyns.

More lupwyns and
phoenix guards rode through the Gate, with both magical and non-magical weapons
in hand, ready for whatever they’d find on this side.

Silverblade
recognized the phoenix in the lead. It was Councilor Tav, a phoenix elder. He
was also brother to the lupwyn queen and not known for his friendly, open
demeanor at the best of times. At the moment, his expression was downright
fierce. Silverblade couldn’t be happier to see that dour expression.

The rest of the
group emerged from the Gate. Fanning out, they sought signs of danger. Or, he
realized, seeking them. Silverblade hadn’t even had time to urge the gelding
forward out of hiding, before the first of the lupwyns had pinpointed him.

They called a
warning to Councilor Tav, and did not rush forward in the traditional lupwyn
greeting as Silverblade had half-expected.

Then he realized
why.

While the
Elementals might not know what the acolytes were, they knew they were
dangerous. The more powerful Larnkins had likely felt the death of the delegation
members sent to learn what the acolytes were. That Silverblade was the lone
survivor of the group made him suspect.

He didn’t blame
them. It was wise. Perhaps the other Elementals had learned more about the
acolytes while he and Beatrice had been running for their lives.

Councilor Tav
held up a hand, halting the rest of his group. The other santhyrians and
lupwyns flanked him and Beatrice as they emerged from the forest.

“Easy,” he
called, not wanting them to strike out. “I have news of the acolytes.”

“I imagine you
do,” the Councilor said, studying Beatrice in a way that Silverblade didn’t
like. His sense of unease grew when the Councilor raised his hand and gestured
at the human. The other Elementals with him, some carrying bows and arrows,
pointed them at the healer.

“Tell the human
to dismount and wait over there.” Councilor Tav gestured to his right, a spot
about ten horse-lengths from Silverblade’s location. From the way the other
Elementals’ gazes trained on Beatrice, Silverblade’s earlier unease for her
safety changed to fear for her life.

Beatrice tossed a
leg over the horse’s neck and dropped to the ground next to his shoulder.
Silverblade dismounted, raising his hands in surrender while at the same time
putting himself bodily between Beatrice and the other Elementals.

“She’s not the
enemy. She’s an innocent human. A healer who helped save me from the acolytes.
They would have fed from her and then killed her as readily as any of us.”

“Whatever dark
power the acolytes serve uses humans as slaves.” Councilor Tav jerked his chin
at Silverblade and then pointed again at the spot where he had commanded the
human to wait. “If you do not do as I say, I will burn her to ash myself!”

Snarling at the
Councilor, Silverblade shoved Beatrice back in the direction they’d just come.

“Wait,” Beatrice
cried. “Don’t harm Silverblade. I’m not an acolyte. I mean you no harm. I only
wished to help him.”

Councilor Tav
tilted his head, inclining it in Beatrice’s direction. “We’ll decide that in a
moment. In the meantime—over there, now.” Again he pointed out the spot from
earlier using one talon-tipped finger.

Beatrice moved
out from behind Silverblade and over to the spot directed.

Tav turned his
attention to Silverblade, studying him with a critical eye. “What happened to
you?”

Seeing no reason
to lie to the Councilor, Silverblade answered. “I ran afoul of the acolytes.
The delegation was just approaching the outskirts of River’s Divide when we
tripped some kind of magic-enhanced net trap set by the acolytes. Once trapped,
the acolytes ambushed us.” Silverblade shuddered in remembered horror. “When I
and the other guards were weakened, acolytes with crossbows and swords set upon
us. Without our defensive magic and no time to rally, we couldn’t stop them as
they began to feed. They didn’t even have to be within touching distance of
us.”

He hadn’t wanted
to remember what had happened, but it was all there in the back of his mind,
waiting when he closed his eyes. Silverblade drew a deep, calming breath and he
found a still moment among the chaos of emotions to say what needed to be said.

“The full-blooded
phoenix were the only ones able to fight, their fire magic able to burn away
the nets. But even they could not stop the acolytes from feeding, nor were they
impervious to arrows. One by one, all the members of the expedition were
overcome. My mother…” He cleared his throat but the tight knot would not ease.
“Elder Cymael was able to burn the closest acolytes to ash. She dragged me out
from under one of the nets and together we fled.”

Beatrice shifted
in place. Like she wanted to comfort him, but thought better of it when the
guards with their bows made their own slight realignments.

Silverblade
looked down at his hands. They’d curled into fists, his claws drawing blood. He
forced his fists to unclench. Attacking their rescuers wouldn’t help defeat the
acolytes. “We had both taken substantial injuries. My mother had a broken wing,
the joint destroyed by a lucky shot from an acolyte’s crossbow. She wasn’t able
to fly. She was barely able to run.”

“Why did you not simply
call for help?”

From the corner
of his eye, he studied Beatrice. Her expression turned thunderous and she
squared her shoulders and she planted her fists on her hips, her body language
practically screaming her belligerence. If he didn’t do something soon, she was
going to march back over to them and draw Councilor Tav’s attention back to
her. Which was the last place Silverblade wanted it.

He did not trust
this particular councilor to have Beatrice’s well-being in mind.

His mother had
shared a little-known secret with him. Councilor Tav and Silverblade’s own
liege, King Ryanth, had gone behind the Council’s back and forced Ashayna
Stonemantle to confront an Oracle Stone. If the Crown Prince of the Phoenix’s
bondmate wasn’t safe from the likes of Councilor Tav, he didn’t hold much hope
that Beatrice would fare any better.

As it was,
Sorntar’s mother had been furious with the Councilor, but the Elder had been
unfazed. After all, he’d claimed he was seeing to the protection of all the
Elemental races. But if the councilor had no concerns about endangering the
Crown Prince’s bondmate, Silverblade imagined he would lose no sleep over
placing Beatrice in the presence of danger either. After all, for all he knew Beatrice
was simply a human. With no protection, certainly no one of royal blood to
protect her.

Had his mother
still lived, she might have been able to protect Beatrice from the other
councilors to some extent.

Silverblade
continued, shoving his own personal grief aside. There’d be time for that
later. For now, he simply had to protect the human from this particular elder.
“The acolytes had taken us by surprise, and by the time we were able to think
to call for help, our Larnkins were already damaged too greatly. My mother and
I tried to escape through the forest, but the acolytes trailed us like
bloodhounds. Truthfully, we were easy prey. We were both injured and had broken
a trail even a child could’ve followed.”

Silverblade
swallowed hard.

“Go on,” Councilor
Tav barked, clearly losing patience. Again his gaze tracked over to the human.

“My mother’s
Larnkin was weaker than mine. She’d expended a great deal of her power trying
to save us from the acolytes. She collapsed on the trail. I was unable to
protect her. In truth, I would have died there with her had Beatrice not felt
my plight.”

Silverblade took
a deep breath and released it slowly, still staring at the ground. “I was in
human form when I met up with the expedition. If I’d been lupwyn, perhaps
things would’ve turned out differently, perhaps I would have been able to get
my mother to safety. But I was not. I was human. Utterly helpless without my
magic or my lupwyn strength and speed. The acolytes soon hunted us down. It was
not Lord Master Trensler himself who hunted us, but one of his underlings. An
acolyte by the name of Ironsmith. I had never seen him anywhere in River’s
Divide before. I am certain he came on the boat with Trensler.”