The Destroyer Goddess (45 page)

"I was afraid you wouldn't come with me if I told you the truth."

She frowned. "Why?"

"I was right, wasn't I?"

"But how—"

"All that matters is that you're safe now. Don't worry about the rest."

Just like a man
.

Elelar looked around in frustration. "How did we get here? The last thing I remember—"

"I brought you here after you passed out."

So that I don't know where we are, or how to get back out. How convenient
.

"Cheylan," she said carefully, "I appreciate your trying to protect me—"

"Mirabar has become even more powerful since marrying Baran," he said. "No one else can protect you from her."

"Even so, I don't—"

"She's not who she was," he insisted. "You can't trust her. No one can. Not anymore."

"Tansen trusts her," Elelar argued.

"Tansen's in love with her," he said. "She can convince him of anything."

"He wouldn't..." Elelar stopped and stared at Cheylan.

"Wouldn't he?" the Guardian prodded. "Is he so incapable of making a foolish mistake? Especially where a woman is concerned?"

What's really going on here?

Had the Olvar's prophecy referred to Cheylan or to Mirabar? 

The one with eyes of fire...

The Olvar
had
clearly indicated that it was Mirabar's actions upon which the fate of Sileria—the fate of the awaited child—depended.

"But her heart is so set on vengeance
," he had said,
"that she may not shield the child. She may fail her duty."

Had Cheylan cleared the way for Mirabar's destiny by removing Elelar from her path at this moment in time?

Or was Cheylan lying to her? Certainly the way he had lured  her here suggested a deliberate attempt to isolate her and gain control of her. But why?

Aware that Cheylan was still waiting for her response, Elelar admitted, with perfect sincerity, "Tansen sometimes makes mistakes."

"He can't protect you from Mirabar, not even if he's still willing to try."

"What I don't understand," Elelar said, "is why
you
want to protect me from her."

"Don't you?" he murmured.

When he tried to touch her this time, she didn't shy away.

"Elelar," he whispered, leaning closer as his gaze drifted down to her mouth.

"You hardly know me," she pointed out, trying to determine his true motives.

"You only think I don't know you." He stroked her hair. "I have watched you a thousand times when you didn't know it."

She doubted that. Elelar noticed such things. Especially when the eyes watching her were as unusual as Cheylan's.

Why has he brought me here?

"And," Cheylan added, "I have thought of you a thousand times a day when we were far apart."

What does he really want?

When he touched her cheek and lowered his head to kiss her, she knew what he wanted right
now
... but Cheylan was a complicated man, and Elelar didn't believe he had betrayed Mirabar's trust, spirited her away from her estate, and brought her to this bizarre place out of a desperate love which he, an articulate
toren
and powerful Guardian, had never before found the courage to express to her.

While he kissed her, demonstrating more skill at the art than she had expected, Elelar wondered what to do. Spurn him... and possibly make him angry enough to abandon her alone here—wherever this was? Could she find her way out? No one in the world knew where she was. He could even kill her here; no one would ever know. And he was surely aware of that...

Since she didn't resist, Cheylan kissed her again, and this time he let his hands wander down her back, pulling her closer.

She could pretend to be flattered by his declaration but uncertain what to do about it. Stall him. But to what end? He would still want her to surrender to him before he would trust her enough to reveal his true intentions. And as for letting her escape...

Surrender
.

Yes, she realized. That was what she had to do in order to learn why Cheylan had brought her here and what he intended. 

"
What you do will change everything,"
the Olvar had said.

No one knew better than Elelar how to manipulate a man through his desire and control him through sex. She had made Advisor Borell betray Valdani plans to her again and again; she had made Zimran betray Josarian. She could certainly make Cheylan reveal his secrets to her. Borell and Zimran had trusted her after conquering her body; Cheylan was no different, no better. He, too, would do what she wanted after he won the prize from her which men so absurdly valued. The prize which she had already, during their journey here, encouraged him to believe could be his.

"
You must surrender
," the Olvar had warned her. 

Once Cheylan thought he had mastered her, she could master him. As soon as he believed he ruled, he could be ruled.

"Elelar," Cheylan whispered, bearing her down to the smooth, hard surface of the lava stone.

His eyes glowed hotly, and there was something cold beneath his skin when she touched him, something strange which she had never felt before and didn't understand. She shied away, startled and uneasy.

"Don't," he murmured. "Don't."

Fire and water surrounded them, hot and cold, freezing and burning. Lava streamed into the underground river, oozing slowly down glassy black cave walls to plunge into the water, shuddering ecstatically in the brief, destructive union of liquid and flame.

Surrender
.

Elelar ignored her nerves and willfully banished her flash of anxiety. She lay back and forced herself to relax, inhaling the strange steam of this secret abode while Cheylan's hot lips explored the hollows of her throat and the rising curve of her breast.

Glowing shapes slithered past her hazy vision, as if fleeing the sight of two people mating in a domain which had, until now, always belonged wholly to something else. 

Dar...

The muted roar filling Elelar's ears was, she now realized, the sound of exploding air and flowing lava, of melting rock and burning mud, moving through the volcano. They were under Dar's skin here, inside the goddess's sacred kingdom of darkness and light, intruding on such dangerous ground that even the mad
zanareen
and exultant praise singers didn't dare come here.

No... I can't stay here!

She surged against Cheylan in sudden panic. Whether or not he knew she was trying to escape, he chose to treat her desperate  writhing as an expression of passion, and his hands were quick and ruthless on the silken ties of her tunic. Then he pulled apart the garment to expose her bare skin to the chilly heat and fevered coolness of this forbidden world where he held her prisoner.

When their eyes met again, Elelar was panting, undeniably afraid now. Cheylan didn't reassure her, nor was he gentle as he finished undressing her. She quivered in nervous indecision when he rose to shed his own clothes. She could see by his expression, as well as the tension in his body, that it would be very, very dangerous to thwart him now.

Surrender...

She had done this more times than she could count, with more men than she could easily remember. It was her weapon, her power, her means of conquest. This man was strange and unpredictable, and this place was as frightening as it was eerily beautiful, but the act was the same as it had always been. Surely, she could make Cheylan weak and helpless now, make him grateful that she gave what he wanted. Make him subject to her will and desperate to serve her.

I have always won this game. Surely I can win now
.

The arms that came around her were hard, and much stronger than she had ever supposed. His weight pressed heavily down upon her, crushing her against the smooth rock beneath her back, smothering her, making it hard to breathe.

She found herself pushing him away, struggling against him, even though she knew it was a mistake. Cheylan seized her arms and pinned them beneath her, impatient and fierce. She fought him mindlessly for a few moments, and then their eyes met. Elelar froze, truly captive now. He held her gaze, his expression determined, his fire-rich eyes demanding that she accept him. Neither of them moved, or even breathed. Elelar sank into his gaze, losing herself in an enchantment she had never expected to experience, least of all with him. Feeling dizzy, she tried to draw breath, barely able to move beneath the hard weight of the man crushing her will with own. Her senses swam wildly as he kissed her, dragging her deep into the volcanic fury of his desire. She was so confused. If only she had time to think, to clear her head...

Cheylan's body was hot and urgent against hers. His long, gleaming hair tickled her as it slid over her shoulder, her belly, her thighs. His muscles bunched and flowed smoothly as he moved, and his knowing hands were ruthless on her flesh. The misty air around the two of them filled Elelar's throat and chest, clouding her mind as it sang to her blood.

You must surrender.

"No," she murmured weakly, but the word was drowned in the rasp of her frantic breath.

Surrender...

It would be the first time, in a way.

"Surrender," he whispered.

She shuddered, full of longing and fear, revulsion and desire. "I can't..."

"Yes, you can."

Elelar closed her eyes, hearing his voice echo around the cavern as the Olvar's words echoed inside her head.

"
You must surrender."

Cheylan's eyes were like the heart of a fire, like she imagined the caldera of Darshon to be. His breath burned her skin wherever his lips touched, even as something deep inside of him chilled her with a cold flame as exotic and forbidden as the touch of a
shir
. 

He arched against her, eager and bold as he sought to claim what he wanted, introducing their bodies to a dark intimacy while they themselves remained strangers. The heat she sensed, as he eased insistently past her defenses, was unbearable, unbelievable, unlike anything she'd ever felt emanating from a man's body.

Naked and vulnerable, pinned between her demon lover and the unforgiving surface of glossy rock, she still sought power over him. "Do you love me?" she asked, probing.

"Of course," he lied.

"No," she whispered, finally understanding. Now she realized the truth, and she panicked. She had lost this game the moment she'd decided to play. He had tricked her, from the very start. This was his dance, not hers. "Wait!"

"For what?" 

Elelar's head banged briefly against hard stone as Cheylan  claimed his victory. He filled her with such fiery power that she couldn't breathe or cry or even plead for mercy—and she
wanted
mercy, would have begged for it if she could. She wanted him to free her, to release her, to spare her... until she didn't want any of that anymore, until all she wanted was more of
him
, more of whatever he offered, even more of this darkly sinister defeat. By the time he flooded her womb with bitter cold and cruel heat, she was weeping with passion, with fear, with relief. By the time he was finished, she wanted mercy the way she had once wanted to live, the way she had once wanted to die. 

By the time he abandoned her to lie alone in the glowing darkness, her body throbbing with pleasure and pain, she felt scalded down to her very soul, and the hot glow of life in her womb warned her that he had gotten what he wanted. 

Chapter Seventeen

The smaller the minnow, the greater 

the hope of becoming a dragonfish.

                  —Proverb of the Sea-Born Folk

There were distinct advantages to being famous and feared, and Tansen made full use of his reputation as he confronted various clan leaders in the eastern mountains.

The Marendari, who were Viramar's clan, were inflamed by the murder of a woman of their own blood, but also ashamed enough of her behavior—caught by her husband in bed with Kiman shah Moynari!—to agree to a temporary truce so that Tansen could attempt to repair the collapsed Lironi alliance. However, their price for once again cooperating with the Lironi, they warned Tansen, would be very high. Honor demanded it. 

Kiman's clan, the Moynari, were more stubborn. As Tansen had feared, they blamed him, in part, for the current disaster. Knowing there was no way to avoid it without causing even worse problems, Tansen agreed to settle his own differences with the clan in formal combat. He really didn't want to kill the swaggering young man whom the Moynari chose as their champion; but if Tansen refused to accept their challenge, he knew they'd simply attack him at random, and he'd wind up killing a lot more of them that way. Besides, there was Zarien to consider. Tansen didn't want his son facing a bloodfeud with the Moynari.

He also didn't want the clan deciding they had chosen the wrong champion and demanding that Tansen fight yet another one, so he didn't kill his opponent as quickly as he could have. Only when he judged that the Moynari had seen enough sweat and blood to feel satisfied by the outcome did Tansen finally execute the young man.