B00CGOH3US EBOK (36 page)

"Because I encountered them. After the fire. After you were gone."

A million questions ran through Jill's mind. Why would anyone do such a thing? Had it been because of them? She strained to see behind every tree and bush nearby. Were they even now being followed by these 'underlings'? So many questions and none of the answers that came to mind were good.

She noted the tension in his shoulders. "Baelin, what aren't you telling me?"

He didn't answer her right away, and that worried her even more.

"The Dark Witch has learned of you. She knows we have succeeded in passing the first test. Now, she will stop at nothing to prevent us from meeting the next two challenges, even at the cost of innocent lives."

The breath rushed from her lungs. "What are we going to do?"

He looked at her, concern etching deep lines around his eyes.

"Keep you alive until the curse is broken or our time runs out, for now that the Dark Witch knows you live, she will do all that is within her power to make it otherwise."

After making their way deeper in the forest, Baelin stopped suddenly.

His gaze sliced toward a high slope ahead of them. She stopped too, instantly in tune to the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his eyes scanned the area around them. Alert. Wary. On guard.

"What is it?" she whispered, instinctively moving her body closer to his. "Is Roderick following us? Oh God, it's not the Dark Witch's thugs, is it?"

"I do not know." He drew his sword and shifted her behind him. "But something comes."

She peeked around Baelin's shoulder as a dozen armed men eased over the rise, moving quietly between the widespread trees like stealthy predators on the hunt. The lead man stopped when he spotted them, surprise evident on his face. He was the same man from the inn, the one who'd urged the mob into a frenzy.

He pointed a sharpened spear at them. "There! There lies the beast."

"Kill the dragon!" the others shouted as they charged down the slope, weapons raised for attack.

Baelin pushed her away from him and she stumbled, falling in the damp leaves of the forest floor. He ran forward to meet the attackers, leaving her behind and out of harm's way.

"Nooo!" she screamed.

As the men surrounded him, she felt defenseless to stop this. Why did everyone want to hurt him? Couldn't they understand Baelin meant them no harm?

Jill stood and watched as Baelin fought off the men, her heart in her throat. But something was different. Something was wrong.

He was using his sword to defend himself, but no more. He deflected their attacks, but he never became the aggressor. He never once drew blood.

Why was he refusing to fight like the mad man he'd been when he fought Roderick? Why didn't he breathe fire to save himself as he'd done when they were attacked by the woodland outlaws?

And then she knew.

He wouldn't do that. These were not trained knights or highway bandits. These were frightened, innocent people. And just as last night at the inn, he would not hurt them now if he didn't have to.

She watched him, every muscle in his body tense, his eyes focused. She could tell every instinct in him wanted to fight, and yet his honor would not allow him to harm them.

Desperate to help him, she rushed into the fray and jumped on one of the men's backs. He shook her off as if she was no more than a pesky fly, and she ended up on her back in the leaves once again.

What was she thinking? She was no match for armed men. But she had to do something, so she did the only thing she could think of.

"Hey! Over here." She jumped up and down, waving her arms. "What about me? I'm a dragon, too."

Some of the men turned startled eyes to look at her. Baelin stood surrounded by the others, horrified. "Nay, my lady. What are you doing?"

With their attention now directed at her, she had no choice but to continue the act. "That's right. There are two of us. What do you think of that?"

As she hoped, some of the men came at her. They wouldn't hurt her if she was unarmed, would they? Then again, wasn't a dragon who breathed fire considered inherently armed and dangerous?

She stiffened, wondering if this was such a bright idea after all. Maybe not, but it might distract the men surrounding Baelin long enough for him to escape.

Bravado gave out to self-preservation, and she turned and ran. She didn't get far before two men grabbed her by each arm with bruising force and dragged her back near the others.

"Unhand her!" Baelin growled. "She does not speak the truth. She is no dragon. She is my prisoner, an unwilling captive, and nothing more."

"We shall see who speaks the truth," said one of the men who held her. A rough hand grabbed the back of her smock and yanked. The sound of fabric rending filled the air as the cloth split down to the middle of her back. The cool forest air touched her bare skin and terror knotted in her belly. Was she going to be raped while Baelin was forced to watch?

The man shoved her away and she clutched at the torn garment to keep it from falling to her waist.

"She lies. She does not bear the wings of the beast. She is no dragon." Then they turned on Baelin again. "But he is. Slay the dragon!"

Just as she'd hoped, those few seconds bought Baelin the diversion he needed and he broke free when the men turned from her with callous disregard.

As they gave chase, he spun on them. Letting out a blood-curdling roar, he shot a ball of flame high into the air over their heads. The men staggered back, even the bravest among them afraid to come near. Some dropped to their knees, while others ran to hide behind the trees.

Baelin spread his dragon wings and took to the sky.

Go, Baelin. Fly. Get away while you can.

He crashed through the forest canopy, sending a shower of leaves down on them like green snow.

With the men distracted, Jill turned and bolted, not willing to give them a chance to remember she was there. Roderick had used her as a lure for Baelin once. She wasn't about to let it happen again.

Sticks and briars stabbed the soles of her bare feet as she hurled herself through the underbrush. Low branches whipped her face and snagged in her hair. She could hear the men shouting, their booted feet pounding on the ground behind her.

She darted to the left, but a man with a long staff blocked her way. She skidded and turned, only to face another man, a scythe pointed at her head. Several men came around her on either side, racing through the trees in an attempt to get ahead of her, to head her off, to surround her.

She dodged around a tree, making a dash through the only opening she could find. The trees thinned and the forest suddenly opened up in front of her. Jill found herself spilling out of the woods and stumbling onto a vast, rolling grassland.

No!

She didn't stop, running until she could go no more, her feet numb, her lungs threatening to burst in her chest. Falling to her knees, she looked over her shoulder to find the men emerging from the forest, slowly closing in. They were in no hurry now. Out in the open as she was, she had no place to hide.

An angry roar split the air and Baelin soared over the top of the trees. He circled far above, then dove toward the men, scattering them in all directions.

Jill struggled to her feet and watched in horrified fascination as he descended with blinding speed. He shot out an arc of fire, igniting a line in the grass until a curtain of fire and smoke separated her from the men.

Baelin punched through the wall of black smoke, heading right at her. Jill stood perfectly still and held her breath, knowing what he planned to do.

"Oh, no. Not again."

He swooped down and grabbed her. One minute her feet were planted firmly on the ground, the next she was in his arms, flying high over the rolling hills. Up, up, up they went.

She clutched her arms around his neck and squeezed her eyes shut. The rush of the wind roared in her ears, drowning out all sound until a strange
whoosh
whizzed by her head, followed by another and another.

She opened her eyes, horrified to see an arrow fly by Baelin's shoulder.

"They're shooting at us!"

A sickening thump lurched Baelin sideways. His arms tightened around her as they rolled in the air, their spinning flight taking them over the edge of the forest.

A second thump, more solid than the first, sent them reeling. Without warning, Baelin released her and was gone.

Without his arms holding her, Jill tumbled through the air, like a skydiver without a parachute. She screamed as the trees below rushed up to meet her. She caught a brief glimpse of Baelin falling too, his graceful flight now awkward and out of control.

Just as quickly, he was gone again, out of sight. The world around her became a dizzy image—sky, trees, sky, trees—until she lost focus, and it all melded into one blur, accompanied by the sound of her own screams.

Was this the end? Were they both to meet their fates splattered on the ground like dead bugs on a windshield?

A sudden impact hit her from the side, knocking the breath from her. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, but still they tumbled out of control.

Baelin flipped them at the last second and he bore the brunt of the impact as they crashed through the trees. Branches snapped and stabbed, both slowing their descent and at the same time threatening to tear them apart.

With a sudden jolt, they slammed into the ground. Jill's ribs screamed in protest as she attempted to draw air into her lungs, and it was a moment before she could get her bearings. She pushed herself up from where she lay sprawled across Baelin's chest.

His eyes were closed, his face slack. Panic set in. Was he dead? He couldn't be dead.

She cupped his face with her hands and slapped his cheeks lightly.

"Baelin? Can you hear me? Please don't be hurt. Oh, God. Please don't be dead."

His eyes fluttered open and he looked at her, his gaze unfocused. Within seconds, his eyes sharpened, filling with concern.

"My lady, are you injured? Did any of the arrows strike you?"

Jill did a quick inventory of her body. She was in a good deal of pain, but nothing felt punctured. Just bruises and scrapes mingled with the residual terror left over from her freefall from hell.

"I think I'm okay. What about you?"

He closed his eyes and groaned, laying his head back on the ground. "I have had better landings."

She couldn't help but laugh, and he joined her, the soft rumble in his chest vibrating through her entire body, all the way down to her toes. His eyes flew open and they both sobered instantly, noticing at the same time the intimate position they were in with Jill's body straddling his, their faces close together.

She found it hard to breathe again, but for a different reason now. She licked her lips and watched Baelin's eyes flick down to take in the simple action. His eyes returned to hers, heat flaring in them.

He wanted to kiss her. And heaven help her, she wanted to kiss him, too.

His hands went to her waist. But to her surprise, he slid her off his body instead of pulling her closer. He stood and walked away, shaking the leaves and twigs off his surcoat.

Jill's disappointment gave way to concern when she spotted an arrow sticking through his wing.

"Oh God, Baelin. You're hurt."

He glanced over his shoulder at the arrow and shrugged, as if it was no more than a splinter in his finger.

Jill stood and walked toward him. "Let me help you."

"There is no time. 'Twill not be long before those men come looking for us. We must not be here when they do." Concern creased his brow as he searched the trees around them. "I do not think I can fly us away from here. Can you walk?"

"Are you kidding? If you think those guys are still after us, I'll find a way to run."

He held out his hand to her. "Then we had best run, my lady."

Saying she could run barefoot through a forest was one thing. Doing it was another. Sheena, Queen of the Jungle, she was not.

After stepping on every stick and briar—and trying to bite back each grunt and groan every time she did so—Jill's feet finally gave out. She wasn't sure if they'd traveled five miles or five feet. It didn't matter. She couldn't take another step.

"Stop. I can't—"

Without a word, Baelin swung her up into his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Carrying you. We must keep moving."

"Baelin, you can't carry me. You're hurt."

"'Tis only my wing that is injured. There is naught wrong with my arms and legs."

True to his word, he pressed on, carrying her through trees and undergrowth as if she weighed no more than a child. But even though he could fly, he was not Superman, and after a while, his steps slowed and his breathing grew labored. Her body sagged low in his arms until she was afraid he was going to drop her.