The Fire King (23 page)

Finally she did, and found a stream of Khalkha dialect flowing through her mind. Khalkha … and English. Which did not make sense.

“Hello?” she called out, tentatively. “Is anyone there?”

Winds howled. Karr held very still, head tilted, staring into the haze. He seemed unbothered by the dust, though his eyes were bloodshot, which made them appear even more alien than usual. Soria tried not to cough, but had to take a deep breath and found herself choking on the grit in her mouth.

She sensed movement among the huddled sheep. Called out again, between coughs, and finally saw a slender figure appear in the haze. A kid, maybe a teen. Hard to tell. Wearing goggles and a bandana, with a rifle in his hands that was almost as big as he. She could not see his expression, but from the way he stood so still, staring at them, she had a strong feeling that encountering a huge naked man and a woman with a sheet over her head was not what he had expected.

“Don’t be afraid,” she called out, which seemed rather laughable. “We’re here to help you.”

“Dude,” said the kid, in both perfect English and an unmistakably female voice. “You need more help than I do.”

Her name was Evie, which was the only thing that Karr truly understood, because the rest had to do with things called
exchange programs
and
cultural immersion,
and something else that was pronounced
an-thro-pol-o-gy,
which the young woman was quite excited about, given the spike of adrenaline in her scent when she started talking to Soria about why she was in the middle of the grassland, huddled with sheep, during a sandstorm.

“This is so frakkin’ cool,”
said the girl, which Karr’s mind could not quite translate. How he was able to understand anything at all remained a pleasant mystery, one that he hoped to discuss with Soria sooner rather than later. She might claim that it was impossible, but clearly
something
had happened. Perhaps when sharing his dream she had left part of herself behind. A bond, a link. Magic.

The storm had finally died down, and they were traveling across grassland that was yellow with soft dust that kicked up around them with each step. The girl rode a brown horse, a sturdy animal wearing a simple saddle, with red tassels dangling from its bridle. It was also covered in dust. All of them were filthy, and Karr kept fighting the urge to scratch his lower extremities. He was uncomfortably dressed in those soft, tight pants, which Soria had tossed to him at the very first moment the girl had turned her back. He felt as though sand was inside them, which was an unfortunate sensation.

Sheep were plodding along in front of them, sometimes exhibiting quick bursts of nervous movement, their eyes bulging and rolling whitely in their heads whenever the wind shifted and they caught Karr’s scent.

The little horse seemed equally displeased by his presence, but was more easily controlled. Karr lingered well behind to keep the animals calm; and to watch their surroundings without being watched in turn by the girl, who seemed to have an unholy fascination with him and his body.

Soria kept pace with the horse, her braids frayed, the folded sheet tucked under her left arm. Her shoulders were slumped but her stride was steady and long, and her voice did not slur with exhaustion. She was a strong woman. Despite the dust coating her hair, he could still see the hint of a glossy shine, and the rich olive tones of her skin were healthy and flushed with faint pink. He could still taste her lips. It took all his willpower not to allow his desire for her to manifest in a physical manner. Even among his kind that would have been cause for embarrassment.

But he did want her. He wanted her badly, and could not explain that need. It frightened him, because with Soria he felt things in his heart that had nothing to do with the heat of his body. He liked her. She might, in the end, be his enemy, but he admired her courage, her stubbornness, the intelligence in her eyes. He respected all those things, and more.

And even more after that.

Enough,
Karr told himself, but he could not stop struggling over his feelings. He had always managed to control himself in such matters, regardless of who had been flung in his direction. Nubile women, naked, more than willing, with the power of empires behind them—he had been tempted, yes, but only by the protection that could be offered his people. Protection that some, including Tau, had argued was needed, no matter the cost.

That cost being the future life of any child Karr might have with his bargained mate. A child that would not be reared by him but suffer the influence of humans with their politics and strange ways. He could not imagine doing that to a son or daughter, having them locked up in the nebulous human cage of conformity and intrigue. Never.

With Soria, the problem was quite different. He was terrified of hurting her.

The girl, Evie, looked quite young, though certainly old enough to bear children. She handled her horse with surprising agility, even while continuing her animated discussion with Soria. Slender, short, with close-cropped blonde hair that suited the sharp lines of her freckled face, she was dressed in a soft blue wrap, and had loose pants tucked into tall boots.

“It was dead back home,”
she said, talking fast.
“Seriously, seriously dead. Like, as far as studying this stuff goes. I mean, what—you’re gonna get a PhD in nomadic cultures and not get your ass out here? Dude, my parents had a meltdown. Like, a ‘You’re-gonna-get-kidnapped-and-sold-into-white-slavery’ meltdown. Ugly, man.”

Soria looked rather dazed.
“How long have you been out here?”

Evie shrugged.
“Little over a year. Took me a while to find a family willing to put up with my weirdness, but you know, everyone is free-to-be-me out here anyway, so a little crazy goes a long way. I’m from Montana. I get the life.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Karr, her gaze roving his body with an interest that made him feel a bit like a skewered lamb. She smiled, a devilish glint in her eyes.
“Guys like yours really should be clothing optional. Man, he is totally lickable.”

Soria made a choking sound. Evie gave her an innocent look.
“What? You said he doesn’t understand English.”

“He understands some,”
she replied, also giving him a sidelong glance.
“He constantly surprises me with how much he knows.”

Karr almost smiled.

Evie said,
“Are you sure it was a local operator who stole your stuff? Crime hardly exists out here, unless you’re in the cities. I mean, there’s muggings, pickpockets, and prostitution … but full-scale robbery and abandonment?”

“Shit happens,”
Soria said. Which was an apt turn of phrase Karr wished he’d had in his vocabulary during the war.

Ahead, the sheep began to scatter. Evie kicked her horse into a trot, herding them carefully. While she was distracted, Karr caught up with Soria and touched her elbow. It was brief contact, but it sent warmth through him and a sickness for home that made it difficult to breathe.

“I think we can trust the girl,” she said immediately, softly. “She seems like a good kid. A student. Grew up on a ranch where she had to regularly work outside with animals. Made it easier for her to integrate with the nomads in this region, but I think she panicked a bit out in that sandstorm.”

“She talks too much,” Karr murmured.

Soria laughed quietly, shaking her head. “She’s sharp. I’m worried about the story I told her.”

“We will leave soon enough,” he replied. “First, food and rest.”

She nodded, watching the girl round up the sheep. Her smile turned painfully wistful. “I was like that once.”

Karr did not have to ask what she meant. “You took the risk of coming with me, did you not? I would call that a far greater gamble than battling sheep.”

“You certainly grumble a lot more.” She gave him an amused look. “ ‘Enemy this, enemy that.’ ”

Again, he had to fight a smile, and ducked low to whisper in her ear: “ ‘Trust me,’ she says. ‘I am harmless.’ ”

Soria turned her head so their noses brushed. “I never said that.”

“Not with so many words,” he murmured. “And I still take issue with all the shape-shifters with whom you are acquainted.”

“I think you always will,” she replied.

Karr wanted to taste her lips again. “Always is a long time.”

Amusement flickered through her eyes and then faded just as quickly into something quiet and pained. Soria stopped walking, and turned to face him. Her cloth bundle was held tight under her arm, which freed her left hand to clutch at her empty sleeve.

“Do not play games with me,” she whispered—without anger, though the sadness in her voice was worse. Karr stared, and a crushing ache pushed through his heart.

A whistle split the air. Evie was waving at them.

“Hey!”
she shouted, the accent of each word crisp and clear.
“It’s just over the hill!”

Sure enough, Karr glimpsed riders in the distance, cresting a low rise. He was reluctant to meet them, or to go anywhere near a human settlement. Not because he doubted their safety, but because he was not yet done with Soria.

There was a creek that had once been a river, but the waters were little more than a snake trail at the base of the rocky bed. It was too early in the season for snow-melt from the distant mountains, but even then Karr suspected the waters would not rise far. A river this dry was a sign of more substantial problems.

It was enough, though. Four tents had been erected a short distance from the creek. Large, round, and white, they had domed roofs and colorful wooden doors painted in designs that resembled leaves and flowers. Horses grazed nearby, alongside long-haired yak. Small, stocky goats, shaggy coats thick with dust, clustered near the creek; the air was thick with their musky scents. Dogs barked, surrounded by children who tried to hold their wildly wagging tails while staring at the procession of riders, livestock … and two strangers.

“There are three families here, all related by blood,”
Evie said. She waved at some women who were carrying buckets of water from the creek.
“I bought my own
ger
to live in—paid for all the wood pieces, and the felt to cover it. When I finally leave, I’ll let Batukhan take it. He’s the youngest son, around seventeen or so. Looking for a wife, so it’ll be a good place for him to live, down the road.”

“We don’t have much to offer,”
Soria said.
“But I still have some cash that was hidden on me.”

Karr watched the girl shake her head, studying her for any hint of malice or deception, but her eyes remained clear and her mouth tugged into a wry, amused smile.
“You can stay with me. As for the rest, don’t worry about it. These folks aren’t generous because they expect to receive things in return.”

But they
were
curious, Karr found. Not that he could blame them. The men on horseback who had appeared at the top of the hill were small and lithe, much like their horses—lean, muscled, quick to dart, spurring into graceful gallops that appeared natural as breathing. Lassos hung from the horns of their saddles, which were hardly more than pads of leather and cloth. They had no stirrups.

Seeing the men filled Karr with quiet pleasure: not all things had changed. He remembered the horsemen of the plains: small, stocky men and women of fierce eyes and sharp wits, some of whom had acted as guides along the great trade routes that sprawled through their territories. The empires of the west and south had seen them as little more than barbarians, but Karr’s dealings with the nomadic tribes had usually been fruitful, when he could find them. The nomads he remembered had understood survival and freedom.

The encampment was tidy, and smelled like roasted meat and smoke, undercut with the musk of livestock. Wagons were parked off to the side—real wagons, and not the odd, enclosed kind that Karr had seen in the city. The men wore simple clothing, while several young boys who rode up were dressed in a puzzling assortment of stripes and symbols that reminded him more of the clothing he had seen in the city.

Women put down their buckets and whistled, which seemed to be a call for more people to emerge from the white tents. Karr lost count. Most everyone came out smiling and laughing, pointing at him, which he endured with patience. He had suffered worse, and there was no maliciousness in their eyes. Just surprise at the giant half-naked man, and a friendly sort of humor.

When Evie shouted explanations, however, the laughter disappeared. Then Soria joined her, speaking the herders’ language with an ease and fluidity that made them all blink in shock—and which caused Evie to give her a sharp, speculative look. Karr listened carefully. Oddly enough, some of the words sounded familiar to him. They should not have been.

He and Soria were led into one of the white tents, which was spacious on the inside and bursting with color. The beams above their heads had been painted bright red, a shade featured predominantly in the two beds arranged along the walls, also decorated with extravagantly embroidered rugs that had been hung like tapestries, and that also covered the hard wood planks that lined the floor. A long stuffed chair, large enough to seat three, took up space along the wall, along with a tall wooden cabinet that held bowls and pots, and other items for cooking. In the center of the tent was a stone and iron fire pit. A metal pot sat on top, and a pipe of the same material rose up through a small hole in the tent roof. Karr was fascinated with its design, and with the simple luxuries inside this home, many of which he would have considered unimaginable.

An old woman took his hand. Her brown face was leathery and wrinkled, and she wore a yellow kerchief around her hair that would have cost a fortune in Karr’s time, simply for the rarity of the dye and quality of cloth. Her posture was slightly stooped, but her grip was firm, and she studied his face with a gentle warmth that twisted at him like a soft knife. A good pain, but pain nonetheless.

She rattled off a stream of words and patted his arm. Evie laughed outright, as did everyone else stuffed inside the tent. Karr raised his brow at Soria. She was biting her bottom lip, trying not to smile, but she gave up when he looked at her, and grinned. “She said that if she was just a little younger, she would tie you to the back of a horse and drag you off somewhere.”