Firebrand (20 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Although outfitted for war, Kubla flew over the field of wild flowers with graceful ease contradicting his powerfully built stature. Tension radiated down his arm, his dusky skin seeming to strain against the tension in his muscles and he flexed his hands to try to relax. The bark colored leather that molded his muscular frame strained against the span of his chest with each breath he took and the
hookra
strapped between his large black iridescent wings glistened in the glow of the setting sun. The movement of his powerful wings cut through the air causing the scent of Hyacinth, Blue-Dragon and Ever-Pock to waft in the air. He inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with the scent of the home he was about to leave.

Movement ahead of him caught his attention. Teezal sliced through the air like a diamond cutting glass. Even as the urgency of what they would have to do weighed heavily on him, he grinned. Though her persona was that of a protector, from her finely honed arms from hours of practice with the
hookra
, to her softly curved hips set on strong legs, Teezal was more warrior as far as he was concerned. As he watched her fly ahead of him, her dark tangle of curly braids cascaded behind her like a Cimmerian veil.

He knew of the chronicles told around the hearth fires about Teezal Thistlecomb but only when she’d return from the world of humans did he really begin to see her as something more than one of the campaigners chosen to help save his world.

He had watched her train with the bowmen and the swordsman general with the concentration and severity of a warrior princess. From a distance he felt his blood stir when he followed the sleek lines of her body when she held a fighting stance. As he watched from afar, each thrust of the blade in her hand, each counter she made to deflect a blow, made heat rise on his skin.

She was a worthy one, this guardian of the true keeper of the Triad, but when the Mage told them they must go together to the land of ice caves to try and find the Sword of Shadows and the humans, he saw her tense. She was a woman who had always worked alone. A momentary angry frown crossed her face when given the task, made it clear she did not want or need assistance, but like the warrior she was she accepted the Mage’s directive in silence.

He saw her glance back at him, her mouth a tight line of annoyance, as though she were castigating him for not keeping up. He smiled, allowing her the lead. He could have overtaken her at any time but the view from behind greatly appealed to him.

“We are almost at the trod,” she called back to him sharply. “We must enter together or risk disconnection during transport.”

Everything about her was a challenge. And he liked challenges, especially when they came wrapped in such an attractive package.

The bridge under which the trod to the Ice Caves of Norway led loomed in the distance. Teezal landed at the entrance with the grace and beauty of a snowflake. She closed her eyes, her face tightening with concentration. A slash of blue formed and swirled around her like smoke, gelling into a blue cloak with a hood that covered her from head to toe.

Kubla inhaled slowly as he watched her adjust the fabric around her. Like liquid it moved and rippled, drawing his attention to each part of her body it touched. His gaze slowly ran along the sleek line she made, his body heating, his mind envying the cloth that touched her. A rare beauty and he vowed that if they both lived, she would know his touch.

Teezal lowered the hood and was instantly aware of Kubla’s scrutiny. Annoyance, spiced with a feral curiosity she refused to acknowledge rippled through her. She had acquiesced to the Mage’s insistence that the warrior go with her out of respect to his position but now it felt more like an affront. She never had trouble protecting herself, nor did she relish this giant, even if he was a handsome brute, spending so much time with her. If she was not vigilant, he could become a distraction.

She felt the air stir as he alit beside her. She looked at him and then quickly turned away. “Have you been to Ice lands before?” she asked, conscious of the heat rising from his body.

“Once,” he replied, his voice deep, rolling from him like distant thunder. “It can be a most barbaric place.” He looked her up and down, the grin on his lips widening. “You better stay close,” he said right before he stepped into the trod with her.

The blast of icy wind caught Teezal by surprise as she watched snow-devils whirl like dervishes in front of her. Kubla stood beside her wrapped in a heavy white cloak that blended so well with the snow, that, unless you were looking for him, you couldn’t see him.

She struggled against an icy blast of an approaching storm that slapped at her body and roared in her ears as she looked out over the frozen tundra. The vista seemed endless, the task before them, daunting.

“Which way?” she shouted above the howling wind.

Beside her Kubla sniffed the air, his eyes narrowing. “The humans have been this way.”

Teezal pulled her cloak tighter against her. “How do you know this?”

“The stench of them is strong.” He dropped to one knee in the hard packed snow. His fingers traced a faint impression left there. “Tracks,” he said in response to the puzzled look on Teezal’s face. “Human tracks. Two sets leading toward the sea.”

She looked down at him. “They are alive?”

“At least they were.”

Teezal knelt side him and surveyed the tracks. “Can you tell how long ago these were made?”

Kubla shook his head. “The storms come quickly and sweep away everything in their paths. We’re lucky to have something to go on.”

“Then we must hurry.”

They walked in silence for two hours before the trail ended. As predicted, new snow had all but obliterated the tracks they had been following and, for as far as they could see, there was nothing but ice hills, mountains of snow and white outlined forests.

Teezal shivered as a strong north blast blew icy air under her cloak. She looked up where broiling gray and black clouds churned across the sky obscuring the bright sun. Beyond the tree line, a howling rose. A grayness seemed to fall on the horizon and roll toward them. “Another storm comes,” she said through a vapor of icy breath.

Kubla pulled back his hood, his elfin ears twitching as he listened. “No, not a storm. We should get to those trees.” he pointed.

“Why?”

“And I think we should do it now.” He grabbed her arm and quickened his pace.

“What are you…”

“Run!” he said pulling her along faster.

Suddenly the air was rent with an ear-splitting shriek that threatened to burst her ear drums. Teezal winced as Kubla grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet. Locked in his iron embrace, together they flew low toward the heavy copse of trees that seemed miles away. For his size the speed of his flight was surprising as he sliced through the cold air and away from the surging shrieks.

Soon the thunderous sound of beating wings joined the ear-splitting screeches, the combination of sounds so shrill that it felt like a knife slicing through Teezal’s brain. She flinched as the pain slid down her spine but stiffened quickly to hide it. Was it Dullahans? How did the creatures find them?

The sound intensified and Kubla increased his speed. At the forest, he ducked low and flew into the cover of the woods. Settling into deep snow, he pulled Teezal toward a huge tree with a hollow large enough for them hide inside. He pushed her into it and followed, shielding her against the great whoosh of wind cascading down around them.

They could hear limbs breaking and trees falling, the sounds crashing around them sending ice shards and splintered branches flying in all directions. The shouting increased to a fever pitch vibrating painfully in the air. Teezal felt Kubla’s hands slide over her cheeks and cover her ears, yet still the awful sound penetrated to her core.

Then as quickly as they began, the noises stopped, the ensuing silence almost as deafening as the din that preceded it. With wariness in his movements, Kubla shifted away from her and left the hiding place.

“What was that?” Teezal asked, following him out, resting a hand on his waist.

Kubla looked down, a shaft of satisfaction knifing through him as Teezal’s touch warmed his back. “Valkyries.”

“Warrior Maidens riding their winged steeds? Why? They only ride in battle and there is in none here.”

“They come looking for mischief I suppose. You know that they thrive on war and dissention but when there is none, they search for wayward travelers with which to have their fun.” His hand tickled across hers and she drew away from him quickly.

“Do you think they know where the humans are?”

Kubla shook his head. “If they knew, they wouldn’t be screeching across the skies.”

Teezal let go a breath of relief. The chance, however slim, that Marcus Drake and Brian McKenna were still alive, buoyed her. “We have to keep going.”

Kubla raised his hand in caution. “A moment. Let’s be sure the Valkyries have gone.” He saw her shiver. “You’re cold, come here.” He opened his cloak and waited, wanting to laugh at the tight lipped beauty as she stood fast contemplating her move. “Come,” he repeated. “We’ve a task to complete and I do not relish telling the Mage that I let you die of cold, when you can just as easily share the warm comfort of my cloak.”

Teezal glared at the warmth offered. She was freezing. Perhaps for a little while it wouldn’t be so bad.

She moved into the invitation and he closed the cloak around them. Instantly, heat crept up her shivering limbs, engulfing her in a cocoon of pleasant warmth. With it came the awareness of the hardness of the arms encircling her and breadth of the steely chest on which her head rested.

At her contact Kubla’s body reacted to hers. His blood pulsed with the
salva
, a need that recognized the woman in his arms as his match. Something wild and untamed roared to life and despite his best efforts, his body physically tensed. He knew that Teezal could not have helped but notice.

For several moments their gaze held, the dark mist of her eyes swirling in bewilderment as she detected an undercurrent in his tone. “You are fairy reared,” she reminded him. “You must remember your charge and control that part of you that calls out for release,” She said fighting to control the pattern of her voice.

He looked into her eyes, holding her gaze. “I am not like you. I am a slave to my breeding. Only by pity did I survive when the fae found me near the Dolmans wrapped in rags shortly after my birth.”

“The Dolmans are sacred to the fae.”

“I know this,” he said, his tone tight.

A smile tugged at her lips. “You are part fae.”

“And part troll,” he reminded her from behind clenched teeth.

His anger only served to make him seem more magnificent. “How is it that you have avoided Hatai for long?” she asked.

Kubla smiled. “You know of the Male Binding Time of those like me?”

“I know many things.”

“Then you know that I can wait until thirty and score before choosing a mate.”

“And you are well you past that.” She knew that to be true by the years he had been in the Gisparry guild.

“I have not yet found one who is worthy of me.”

“You think quite highly of yourself I see.”

“She who will share my life cannot be just anyone. I am
gyna
, mixed, both fae and troll. The one who binds to me must be strong enough to understand that. Troll blood boils during battle…” he stopped purposely delaying his next words, “and during mating.” His arms tightened around her. “She must be strong, willing to accept what I can give.”

Teezal refused to look away. “I’ve heard of the fierceness of this mating compulsion.” She saw a wicked smile curl his lips. “But I am not interested in anything more than finding Marcus Drake and the Sword.”

Kubla relaxed his hold. “Your body says differently.”

Teezal pushed free of him and gathered her cloak around her. “You are greatly mistaken.”

“As you say.”

“As I know,” she emphasized before looking away. Her denial was meant as much for herself as for him. She could not let anything distract her from the task at hand. “We should go. We have to find the humans.”

“Another time, Teezal Thistlecomb, another place and it may be different.” He gave her a curt nod. “But for now it will be as you wish.”

* * * * *

Amber turned around slowly. Something moved behind her. On her way to check on Roswyn, she had ignored a perception that gnawed at her, a sense of exhaustion, of being drained of energy. The center of her chest felt like a great weight was pushing down on it and she clasped a hand over her heart. Between her fingers light pulsed and heat rose on her palm. She lifted the golden chain she wore around her neck and saw that one corner of the pendant glowed an eerie green-black.

She felt her heartbeat rise and saw that the pulsating light matched the rhythm. She looked around and gave her head a barely perceptible shake, feeling a sense of danger wash over her. But that was impossible. She was in Everwood. She was safe.

Or was she?

She looked into the shadows made by the low hanging tress nearby and could make out a dark form, head hung low with a neck that was twisted at an almost impossible angle.

The figure turned toward her, lifting his head. When it was upright, he turned it left and then right like he was scanning the area, making a horrible face that depicted such rage that Amber’s quick intake of breath in shock sounded almost like a scream.

He stepped out of the shadows, his eyes wide, focused on her. It seemed like half of his face never moved while the other half twisted in a leer as he came toward her.

Amber swallowed the fear that welled up inside her throat and took a step backward. The figure coming toward her was another troll. Very menacing, very grotesque, he loomed larger with each step closer he took.

She shrugged off the eerie sensation of seeing a troll where, before the edges of the worlds blurred, none would dare walk and tried to sound unperturbed. “You don’t belong here. Leave.” He was a mere step away from her now.