Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (40 page)

will always choose to act, even if the act itself is futile. You will fight. even if there is no hope of winning.

It is
your
nature."

Ridge watched him in savage wonder. "What makes you think you know me so well?"

"We have made a study of you, Fire Whip. Isn't it logical we would study a tool we wished to employ?

My master knows your abilities well."

A tool, Ridge thought. Very well. The Cult of the Eclipse would learn this tool had a cutting edge.

He looked deep into the pit of fire that burned at his feet.

There was little heat being generated, considering the violence of the blaze. He was beginning to think

that he was the only one in the room who found the warmth from the fire mild, however. The others kept

their distance from the fire pit, and Ridge was sure the flames radiated more heat than they could bear.

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He took a step closer, the toe of his boot at the very edge of the pit. It looked as though the cult

members had managed to drag the circle of fire this far and could get it no farther. The Stones only knew

what it had cost them to get it to this point. They had left it alone in the center of the cavern and built the

black glass walls around it. The bowl of fire was not deep, perhaps only an arm's length from the peaks

of the flames to the molten coals at the bottom. Ridge couldn't begin to guess what had fed the blaze all

these centuries, yet some instinct told him it had been burning like this since the Dawn Lords had put it at

the bottom of the crevasse.

Deep in the core of the fire lay an object. He could see it now that he was so close. It was a case of

some sort made of what looked like black metal. He knew that what he wanted lay inside that case.

A weapon. He needed a blade to defend his woman when she walked back into the hands of the Cult of

the Eclipse. The Key was the only weapon he was going to get.

Ridge went down on one knee beside the glowing pit of flame. The heat should have scorched him. He

was too close. Yet the warmth was only moderate. It reminded him of the mild heat generated by the

sintar when it glowed red in his palm. Even when the sintar was at its hottest, it could still be held in his

bare hand. Ridge had long ago decided that the odd effect of his fury on the steel of Countervail was

useful only as a psychological weapon. Others saw it and feared it far more than they would a blade of

plain steel. Only Ridge seemed to understand that the sintar remained only a blade, albeit a warm one,

when it ignited in his hand. It was the fury that drove him at such moments which needed to be feared.

"Take the Key from the flames, Fire Whip. It is your destiny. Your only hope."

Ridge ignored Griss' command. He intended to try for the black case, but he would do so in his own

way. Cautiously, he moved his fingers toward the flames. Nothing happened. The strange lack of heat

persisted. It was as though he was touched by sunlight; the fire was warm, but not dangerously so.

Ridge edged closer and put his entire hand into the flickering light.

He nearly lost his balance as a wave of pulse pounding fire shot through his blood. A promise of

savagely satisfying ecstasy was written in the flames. He could see it, feel it. In a moment he would hold it

in his hand.

There was still only a moderate warmth in the flames themselves. They did not burn even though he was

on fire inside. Ridge unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Nothing could stop him now.

Slowly, he moved his trembling fingers toward the black case. A moment passed as he leaned closer still,

and then his hand closed around the black metal box. The excitement that flowed through him in that

moment was almost unbearable.

Yet he knew that he had touched the edges of such excitement before. He couldn't seem to think clearly

enough in that moment to remember just where or when, but he was certain he had felt this raging longing

and satisfaction in some other context. For an instant he tried to focus and remember, but the fleeting

thought escaped him.

Ah, well, he decided, it was not important. What was important was another kind of knowledge. This

knowledge was not fleeting or vague. It was as strong and fierce and certain as the flames.

The Dark Key was his to control.It was of fire and he was of fire.

As soon as he touched the box, Ridge knew that whatever lay inside was his to master. Ripples of

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energy washed through him, emphasizing the fact. Never had he felt anything close to this kind of power.

He pulled the case from the pit of fire with a strong, steady motion of his arm. The Key was his. He rose

to his feet, holding his prize in both hands.

There was a murmur of low voices and the sound of hissing as the room full of cult members saw what

he had done. Ridge ignored them. The cult was unimportant now. A stupid, meaningless group of men

who had tried to play games with power they couldn't possibly comprehend.

Ridge studied the case in his hands, eager to learn everything he could about it. It was flat and wedge

shaped. The black metal had been indented with a series of odd designs. The designs vaguely reminded

him of certain figures in the alphabet, but he could make no sense of the similarity.

The fire continued to burn at his feet, but Ridge was no longer aware of it, just as he was unaware of

Griss and the others. His full attention was on the casket in his hands. It was his. He alone had pulled it

from its hiding place, and he alone could grasp what lay inside. He stared at the metal, looking for a way

to open the case.

"Not yet, Fire Whip."

Ridge's head snapped up, his eyes pinning Griss, who had taken a step forward. "Stay away from me."

"We have no wish to harm you," Griss said soothingly. "You and the Key will become one, a formidable

weapon for us. The last thing we will do now is cause you injury But you must rest. Pulling the Key from

the fire required more energy than you realize. We will take you back to the chamber you've been using.

You will eat and then sleep. When you awaken the woman will have returned. Then it will be time for you

to learn the full extent of your power, Fire Whip. And as you learn the truth, so shall we. Come. You

must rest."

Ridge considered the situation. He did not feel tired at all. Just the opposite, in fact. There was a strong

pulse of energy moving through his body. It was not unlike the sensation he had when he took Kalena in

his arms. Even as he made the analogy in his mind, Ridge realized that at least part of his feeling of

strength was sexual in origin. If Kalena were here now he would lay her down beside the fire, part her

soft thighs and sheath himself in her silky warmth.

It was then he realized where and when he had tasted the kind of longing and satisfaction he felt when he

grasped the case that held the Dark Key. It had happened during those moments when he plunged into

Kalena and was swept into the vortex of the desire he felt for her.

For a few seconds the image was so strong in his mind that Ridge forgot everything else in the chamber

except the black case in his hands. The metal object he held seemed to vibrate in tune with the energy he

felt racing through his body. He could subdue Kalena with the force of his lust. She would learn at last

that she was his, that she had always been his. The claim he would put on her would be total and her

surrender would be complete. She was only a woman, his to use. He could sate himself time after time

with her, endlessly. She was a woman. Soft, weak, at his mercy. His woman.

"Rest, Fire Whip. Come with us. You need rest."

Ridge shook his head a little, frowning as he tried to clear the lustful images that were clamoring inside

his brain. He didn't need rest but he did need solitude. He had to discover the precise nature of what he

had pulled from the flames.

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"Don't try to touch me," he said quietly to Griss and the others.

"We won't touch you."

Ridge went toward them warily, circling the bowl of fire that continued to burn as strongly as ever in the

center of the black glass chamber. None of the cowled men tried to rebind his arms. Instead, they fell

into a ragged circle around him, maintaining a respectful distance as they led Ridge from the chamber.

When the group reached the room where Ridge had been held, they halted, waiting almost politely for

him to willingly step inside.

Ridge hesitated again, but knew he could do nothing yet with the Key. He had to examine it and learn to

handle it. He needed time and privacy. Without a backward glance he walked into the rocky cell. The

barred gate clanged shut behind him, but he paid no attention. He knew now that the others could not

touch him as long as he held the metal case.

Fading footsteps in the corridor outside the gate marked the sound of the retreating cult members. Ridge

didn't turn around, but he could still sense Griss' presence.

"It won't be long now, Fire Whip." There was an unnatural anticipation in Griss' voice. "You were found

and brought here for only one purpose and soon you will fulfill it."

"What happens after that?" Ridge asked almost idly. He was still staring at the black metal case.

"The Cult of the Eclipse will finally take possession of its rightful heritage. We are the ones who have

kept the old knowledge alive. We are the ones who recognize the potential of the powerful tools the

Dawn Lords buried so long ago. We are the ones who have studied the past so that we may control the

future."

"I wouldn't count on it, Griss. Something tells me you're more of a follower than a leader."

"Fool. You will see. Your control over the Key will be very short-lived. In the end you will understand

that you are only a tool."

"Like you, Griss? A tool for someone who thinks he can eventually control the key? Where is this master

of yours? The one who uses you to do his bidding? I would meet with him. Let him see if he can take the

Key from me. Fetch him for me, Griss. Let me speak with the one who's in charge around here."

"When the power of the Keys claims you and the woman you'll finally understand just who is in control."

Griss flung himself away from the grating and disappeared down the corridor.

For a long while after the others were gone Ridge remained where he was, examining the black case in

the lamplight. Then the need to know what lay inside overcame him.

Sitting cross-legged on the hard stone floor, Ridge placed the case in front of him and began looking in

earnest for a way to open it. His fingers moved lightly over the surface of the black metal, searching for a

crack or an unusual indentation. When he found none he restrained his growing impatience and tried

again.
He would open the case. It was his by right.

Even as the determined words formed in his head, the lid of the case sprang open. Ridge blinked at the

suddenness of it, and then gazed unbelievingly at what lay inside. Somehow he had been expecting fire.

He had an affinity for fire.

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What he found was ice.

It was the coldest ice he had ever known, and it was deeply, intensely black. The black cold radiated up

from the metal case as if it were a living force. The object in the case was shaped like a wedge or the tip

of an arrow, but much broader. A narrow portion projected from the wedge and Ridge knew at once it

was to be grasped. But how did anyone grasp something so incredibly cold? It would burn like fire.

More than that, Ridge decided; it would kill.

But he knew beyond a doubt that he was meant to take hold of the Dark Key. When the time came, he

would do so. Ridge realized he was shivering as he carefully closed the case. He didn't know if it was

because of the bitter cold thing inside or purely the result of his own inner tension.

He left the case on the stone floor in front of him and sat waiting. Griss was wrong. He didn't need sleep.

Ridge knew. Never had he felt so strong, so powerful or so alive. The driving force within him was a

relentless source of unending energy. There was a fire in him. He burned like the steel of Countervail.

Before this night was over he would find a way to make the Dark Key burn, too. It was his destiny.

Kalena lost all track of time on her trip down the mountain trail. She moved swiftly, clutching the silvery

metal box tightly to her as she made her way. There was a burning urgency in her, a sizzling energy that

needed to be released, but which had to be controlled until the time was right to take up the Key.

Thoughts of Ridge alternated with thoughts of his seed that had taken root within her. She couldn't pin

down her emotions on either subject, but she was vibrantly aware of the fact that they were connected.

Every time she tried to sort out the ramifications of the situation, the sense of urgency took over. She

must reach the caves before dark. Sunset was the proper time. Kalena wasn't sure how she knew this or

exactly what she must do at sunset, but she was aware of its importance.