Shadow Fire (21 page)

"Uh, how do we know which wolf is yours?" the other guard asks. Zane stares back, tipping his head in mock confusion.

"How many wolves usually approach the gate?" Zane asks the guard.

"None?" the guard responds.

"Is that a question or an answer?" I ask, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice.

"Ahem." The guard clears his throat. "I've never seen a wolf here before."

"Well there's your answer," Zane replies smirking. When the guard clears his throat again and shifts from foot to foot, I decide to intervene.

"Shadow is much larger than an average wolf. He's black with blue eyes and has massive fangs. Don't worry, you can't miss him," I sputter, trying to control my laughter.

Zane drags me away before the guards have a chance to see my amused face. When Freya follows us through the gate, both guards jump back. Everyone stops whatever they're doing to stare, mouths gaping, as we cross the interior courtyard. The young stable hand approaches when we reach the stable. He walks right up to the griffin and pats her neck.

"What a magnificent creature you are," he coos at her. "You won't eat the horses will you, dear? No of course not." I glance at Zane and he just shrugs at the strange behavior. "I've never cared for a griffin before. What are her requirements?" he asks with such nonchalance it leaves me speechless.

"Being the queen of all beasts, I'm sure she can take care of herself," Zane says, eyeing Freya. "Let's provide a stall to sleep in should she choose to stay here."

"She's hungry," I cut in after Freya sends an image to me. "She wants to know what around here is considered acceptable prey."

"Well if she likes wild boars we just had a delivery this morning," the young man says gazing at Freya as if expecting her to answer. "Of course they're already dead, so they're not really prey, exactly."

"She's fine with a boar," I answer for the griffin.

"Well that's great then. Go ahead and leave her with me and I'll get everything taken care of. If it's okay with her," he says, stroking her feathers. Freya snorts and appears to nod her head. As the stable hand leads Freya away, Shadow comes bounding up with a large hare in his jaws.

"Oh no, is that one of those ugly bunny things?" I ask Zane, trying to suppress a shudder. He shrugs his shoulders.

"I told you he was addicted to them," Zane comments before turning to the fenrir. "Shadow, you can't bring your harrier into the inn."

Shadow lopes off after Freya, the harrier swinging from his jaws. With a bright smile, I follow Zane into the inn. A quick glance around shows this inn to be a carbon copy of the other two. I suppose the same person designed them and perhaps suffered from a severe lack of imagination or utter laziness. On the plus side, at least I don't have to worry about getting lost.

We have the same type of suite here except it's on the opposite side. Being a highly sought after mercenary must pay quite well. Every time I try to pay for something, he tells me to hold onto my silver. At first I was a tad annoyed but now I know he means well. As we settle down in our room, I start pacing the floor, my anxiety soaring. Today I'll ask Zane to begin my magic training. I couldn’t stay awake long enough last night to even broach the subject. Anxiety bubbles within as I gather my courage to take such an important step.

"Zane?" I ask, not liking how pathetic and weak my voice sounds. He stares at me, one eyebrow raised in confusion. Perhaps I'm acting a bit out of character. I swallow around the lump in my throat. "Will you start teaching me magic today?"

"I'd already planned to," he says with a grin. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"I'm kinda nervous."

"I'm not a rigorous teacher," he says, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "Unless of course that's what you like."

I decide it's best to ignore his remark since I can't think of a clever retort. In fact, his piercing gaze is causing some pleasant feelings to stir within my body. He stalks over to me, his eyes never leaving mine. I'm unable to control the tiny tremors coursing through my body. He reaches out and runs his fingers down my cheek. Closing my eyes, I lean into his touch.

His lips brush against mine, and he whispers, "If you wish to learn magic, you must stop distracting me like this." Then he backs away and sits down on the sofa.

"I'm ready," I say, reining in my raging hormones. I take a seat next to him on the sofa. "Where do we begin?"

"Do you meditate?"

"No. I never have."

"Okay. That's what you must first learn to do. Sit back, close your eyes and try to quiet your mind, free it of all worries."

Tucking my legs under me, I close my eyes and try to do as he says. Nothing. Think of nothing. I wonder how Freya's doing.
Ugh…
nothing. Just as my mind clears, a crystal clear image of Zane takes over, his hands caressing every inch… My eyes fly open as heat flushes my face and floods my entire body.

"I can't. Each time I try, my mind goes off on a tangent," I squeak while staring at the floor.

"Imagine yourself alone in a serene place. Perhaps the forest? Concentrate… Picture the scene." His voice is deep and soothing.

Closing my eyes again, I imagine the forest.

"Listen to the creatures around you. Smell the scent of the trees. Are you there?"

I'm sitting on a tree branch high up in an oak tree. The sun filters through the dense leaves, painting speckles of light on my legs. A doe and her fawn meander by as I watch in silence. They aren't acceptable prey so I continue to wait in silence on the branch. The wind picks up carrying the scent of cherry blossoms along with it.

"Yes. I'm in the forest."

"Using magic comes from this calm part of your psyche. Spells require intense concentration. A lapse in focus can have disastrous results." His words sound distant. "Now hold out your hand palm up." I do as he commands. "Picture a tiny flame floating above your hand. Try to put all thought into this image. Picture the color of the flame, the heat it produces." Placing all my focus into his words, I form an image of a dancing flame.

"How's that?"

"Open your eyes."

There's a small flame flickering above the palm of my hand.

"I did it!" I squeal in delight. The flame disappears.

"That was fantastic, much faster than I expected," he says smiling. "Go ahead and practice producing the flame a few times, then we'll continue the lesson."

I manage to make the flame appear five more times, the last time with my eyes open.

"It's easier than I thought," I say laughing. "This is fun!"

"Remember you said that. Things only get more difficult from here," he advises. "Now do you remember what elements you're aligned with?"

"Fire, wind and light," I answer with a giddy smile.

"Yes. You'll only be able to use spells which make use of those elements." He pauses, his eyes unfocused as he gathers his thoughts. "There are no magic words to memorize. The key to a spell is to picture what you want to happen then focus your energies to make your thought tangible."

"I don't really understand," I say, biting my lip, my frustration already surfacing.

"Some people use a word to symbolize the spell they wish to achieve. For example, the flame in your hand, you might think flame and then say it aloud to help yourself focus on the image. Spells vary from person to person as they are a reflection of each individual and what form their mind projects."

"So then you can't just teach me different ways to cast fire magic?" I still don't quite understand what he's trying to convey.

"When I attack with fire, I normally picture a spinning wall of flame engulfing my target. Another fire mage might picture something like a stream of fire. When I use healing magic, I picture water flowing through the injuries healing everything it comes in contact with. It all circles back to your concentration and ability to channel your power through your focus."

He leans closer to me, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. Deciding I'm ready for a break, I climb onto his lap.

"It's all so confusing," I say, snuggling into his chest. His arms wrap around me, and he buries his fingers in my copper hair.

"Your hair is like a pool of fire," he murmurs, fingers raking through my long tresses.

The hand buried in my hair tilts my face up. His lips meet mine in a soft caress, not at all what I want. Pressing my body against his, I place all the hunger I feel into my kiss. He groans beneath me, his lips parting to allow me to plunder his mouth with my tongue. His mouth never leaving mine, he picks me up and carries me over to the bed. Finally tearing his lips from mine, he tosses me onto the bed. When my back hits the mattress, my eyes fly open. Zane climbs up onto the bed and starts crawling toward me, his garnet eyes burning like twin fires.

As I watch him approach, I'm filled with a deep, aching need I've never felt before. Tiny shivers course through my body as he continues to stalk toward me with a predatory gleam in his eyes. When he reaches my side, I pull him down to me, and his lips crash against mine. I open my mouth under his assault, allowing his tongue to ravage my mouth. He buries one hand in my hair and the other one caresses my side, the light touch at odds with the wildness of his kiss.

When his fingers brush over my stomach, I writhe a bit beneath him. My fingers roam over his back and chest stroking every inch of his muscled torso. His hand moves down, grasping the side of my hip through the thin material of my bodysuit. I wind my hands in his auburn hair, trying to pull his mouth back to mine when he moves away. My forlorn whimper turns to a deep sigh as he kisses a searing trail down my neck. He sucks and bites at the junction between my shoulder and neck eliciting a deep moan from my throat. My head tilts allowing him better access to my neck. When I wrap both of my legs around his body, he freezes.

"We have to stop." The groan he releases sounds like a sad whimper.

He unwinds my legs from around his waist and plops down on his back next to me. To say I'm in shock is an understatement. An overwhelming feeling of rejection creeps into my heart. Why did he push me away? He throws his arm over his eyes, and a ragged sigh escapes his lips.

"I'm sorry. Just give me a moment."

"Whatever," I reply, trying not to sound petulant. Rolling over onto my side facing away from him, I curl up, panting softly. A heavy feeling settles on my chest as I experience a horrible combination of embarrassment, sorrow, and anger.

"Ugh, this is killing me!" he mutters, followed by a loud groan. "Elder Clements gave me some important information before I left, you know in regards to you and me… us… together…"

"Do I want to know?" I ask, trying to hide the catch in my voice.

"Probably not, but I'll tell you anyway," Zane says, the strained noise he releases somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "He said, and I quote, 'In order for Ashlyn to retrieve the Goddess Statue, she must be a pure, chaste maiden. Keep that in mind and keep it in your pants.' Those words exactly." He releases a deep throaty chuckle. "I was taken aback since I'd been thinking some rather unchaste thoughts about you earlier. It seems the elder noticed my attraction to you and was afraid I'd act on it."

"You've got to be kidding!" I reply, my embarrassment giving way to anger. "That's why they send poor innocent girls after the statue? And let me guess… she goes alone because all women are sirens and no male can control themselves around us!"

"Well you are making it a tad difficult," he says, leering at me.

"You started it so don't blame me!"

"No, this time I'm pretty sure you started it."

He collapses, snickering at the dark glare I shoot his way. I know this isn't his fault, but I'm enraged at my village. When Elder Clements said only a maiden with a pure soul could touch the statue, stupid me thought he meant… well, something other than sex! To think they had to consider my sexuality before sending me. It's mortifying! How do they know I'm a virgin anyway?

"Well, I'm furious right now so you might want to run," I snap at him.

My eyes fall to the pillow lying like an innocent lump on the bed. Grabbing it, I vent my fury by striking Zane so many times I lose count.

"I know, Love," he says, hands blocking his face as the blows continue to rain down. "I wish it wasn't this way. Believe me." He holds out his arms, and I toss the pillow aside to lie down with my head on his chest.

"I'm just glad Freya is a griffin and not a unicorn," I mumble into his chest. "It would be way too cliché."

"Ah, but it'd be so perfect!" he exclaims laughing. "The pure white unicorn gracing the chaste maiden with its presence."

"Zane?"

"Hmm?"

"Quit while you're still ahead," I advise, glaring up at him.

"Yes, Love," he replies, the laughter apparent in his eyes, though he manages to keep the smile off his lips.

****

We spend the rest of the afternoon alternating between magic lessons and sparring. Though I'm not skilled with the sword, it's still much easier than magic. It's amazing just how much concentration is needed to produce a tiny flame, which extinguishes within seconds. For a change of pace, I try focusing on wind instead. A gentle breeze rustles through Zane's hair.

I suppose I can cool Delistaire off if nothing else.

Light magic is what interests me the most. But I don't understand what it encompasses. It's easy to picture fire and wind in the mind's eye, but how does one picture light? Besides, it's obvious magic is a lousy weapon. There's no way I could ever unleash a spell before an enemy was upon me. It's not like I can ask them to stand still for a minute or two while I cast the spell. They'd run me through with whatever weapon they possessed long before I could finish summoning the magic.

"Zane, there must be a faster way to cast a spell." With a deep sigh I collapse back on the sofa and close my eyes.

"I'm sorry but there isn't a shortcut. Even the most powerful mage needs time to focus. Magic is a poor melee weapon," he says. I hear him walk over to me but I refuse to open my eyes. "It's similar to fighting up close with a bow and arrows."