Chapter Nine #2
The dramatic-looking woman on the lead horse is flanked by three men and one woman, all dressed in leathers.
They’re spread out in a reverse V formation, protecting a shiny black-and-gold carriage and the four black horses pulling it down the center of the road.
The driver wears matching livery but looks uncomfortable in it, like he’d prefer to wear leathers, too.
“The driver,” I murmur. “He’s one of them.”
“I see it. Good catch. Body language is usually more honest than words. All right. I’m going back into my rich parasite act, so try not to take anything I do or say personally.”
Before I can respond or even think about what that might mean, he wraps his arm around my waist, sliding one hand beneath my cloak as if he has a right to touch me.
Which, I guess, he does, because I gave him permission.
Then he laughs like I’ve said something funny, raises his other hand to push my braid aside, and drops a long, languid kiss on my neck, which instantly sets my nerve endings on fire in a blaze that rivals the actual fire I expected to consume me when I touched the amulet.
I gasp and catch myself automatically arching back into him. He utters a quiet groan that shocks me out of my reaction to his touch.
Artemisen help me, I think before I remember exactly what we’re up to on this journey.
“I need some cold water,” I mutter, startling a laugh out of Kaelen.
“You’re not the only one,” he says ruefully, shifting position in the saddle.
“By the goddesses, I might even need some cold water,” Chitai says, and I jump.
I look over to see her grinning, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice her ride up next to us. I wince at how much danger I could have been in if she’d been an enemy. I must get my reaction to Kaelen under control before it gets me—or anyone else—killed.
Andras canters up on our other side, his face expressionless as he studies the oncoming party. “Follow my lead, Kaelen. Your mercenaries would talk to theirs, not you. You’re the client. The sergeant remains with the wagon.”
“Hello, the road,” the woman calls out, taking stock of us as closely as I did her party.
“Hello yourself,” Chitai says, putting an extra layer of flirtation in her response. “Nice jewels.”
“I’m Drysk of Khyrrus, leader of this merry band of misfits,” the woman responds. She smiles briefly at Chitai, but then turns her sultry stare on Kaelen, looking straight through me like I don’t exist. “Where are you headed?”
“Off to Khyrrus ourselves,” Andras answers. “How goes the road?”
A short, cadaverously thin man wearing a bandolier filled with tiny vials instead of blades rides up beside Drysk and aims an icy, pale gray stare at the Sylvan. “Since when does a fucking Sylvan ride to the coin? You don’t look much like mercenaries to me.”
Andras leans forward in his saddle. “That’s ‘since when does a fucking Sylvan lord ride to the coin’ to you, poisoner.”
Poisoner. Of course. The vials. I’m wearing them, too. Why does he suspect we’re not really mercenaries, though? Does it matter?
Kaelen moves the hand on my waist to cup my chin, turning my face up to his. His glorious purple eyes sparkle down at me in a look filled with hunger, like I’m exactly what he needs to keep breathing. “Play along,” he whispers.
And then he kisses me.
Just a gentle press of lips at first. An act. Even I know that. But I’m so caught off guard that I react with no thought of pretense or disguise—or our audience.
Because the touch of his mouth to mine flares heat through me like lightning over the Sea of Ice in the heart of autumn tempest season.
The emotions that have been warring in my body—fear and wonder, hope and despair, self-consciousness and bravery—crystallize into knife-sharp desire.
A tiny sound escapes me, and I melt against him, reaching up to cup the back of his neck.
He groans and takes my mouth like he wants to strip me bare right here, right now, and damn the consequences.
I’m not sure I want to stop him.
My fingers glide through the silk of his thick, lustrous hair, and I close my eyes and revel in the sensations sizzling through me from my lips to every single part of my body.
A loud whistle suddenly cuts through the haze in my mind, and I jerk back from the kiss, staring up at the prince in utter horror and disbelief. To my profound shock, his expression is the exact opposite of horror.
Instead, his heavy-lidded gaze is so hot I feel my hips twitch in response. His powerful thighs immediately tighten around me, and I feel the hard evidence of his arousal before he quickly but subtly moves away. At least part of his reaction to me is no act.
Kaelen rests his cheek on the top of my head for an instant, slowly exhaling, and then he raises his head and looks at Drysk.
“You can’t blame me for tasting such a delectable morsel,” he drawls, using that fake courtier’s voice I despise. “Too bad your poisoner isn’t as … appealing as mine.”
I watch them and focus on controlling my breathing, suddenly glad for the leather corset that doesn’t show anyone how hard my nipples are. How can Kaelen move so smoothly into his act? Unless … unless it was all an act, and I’m just a fool.
No. No, his body, still hard behind me, tells me it wasn’t all an act. But a physiological response to a pathetically willing woman is far different from an emotional response.
Wait. Emotional response? I close my eyes and contemplate banging my head against the saddle horn a few times until I knock some sense back into myself.
While all this is racing through my mind, Drysk raises an eyebrow and shoots a sardonic look at her poisoner. “Yeah. Grigos isn’t my type.”
We’re now all stopped in the middle of the road, facing one another.
Grigos leans forward in his saddle and fixes me with a malevolent stare. “She’s not old enough to be a poisoner. Don’t insult my craft by pretending your flash piece is anything but that.”
The insult infuriates me despite being true.
Partially true.
I’m certainly not a “flash piece,” although a secret part of me is intrigued that anybody could see that in me. But it’s true that I’m definitely not a poisoner.
However, Elianna gave me a brief lesson. And better than that, a book.
A book I read many times before this whole charade was even a glimmer in a sorcerer’s eye.
Everything I know, I learned from books, scrolls, and codices.
The printed word has never let me down, never hurt me, never abandoned me.
I’ve visited foreign lands, sailed the five seas, battled monsters, fought with snow leopards by my side, and soared through the skies on giant raptors.
I’ve known world-bending loves and tragic disappointments.
And I’ve learned things. So many, many things.
Books have given me the world. They’re the basis for the little self-esteem I can still claim.
And now they’re going to help me trounce this pissant of a poisoner.
The most important lesson in An Encyclopedic Guide to Poisons of Altarra, author anonymous, is faithfully stored, word for word, in my mind.
The expert poisoner must learn one vital lesson before anything else: the importance of antidotes.
I yawn and study my fingernails. “Try me,” I say in a bored voice.
A superior smile spreads across Grigos’s sallow face. “What would you use to cause incapacitating emesis in a large force with few or no deaths?”
“Emesis?” Chitai asks. “What in the Burning River is emesis?”
“Vomiting,” I tell her. And then, to Grigos: “Powdered Grue Fungi from the northern slopes of the Spires. Is that all you’ve got? You must be very … basic.”
When he sputters, I roll my eyes and glance at Drysk. “If you ever need a real poisoner, look me up.”
“Tasteless liquid you can add to wine that causes death in minutes,” Grigos snarls.
I sigh and fiddle with my braid, trying to project an air of superiority worthy of a palace courtier. “Pressed juice of the Sharnon elderberry, picked when still green. Please. Even apprentices know these things.”
Kaelen’s chuckle shouldn’t warm me the way it does, but it feels like praise, and I’ve had precious little of that in my life.
Grigos’s face is turning red. “What dose of pickled apricot worm can cause two days of paralysis in the victim?”
This time, I laugh in his face. Well, across the road separating us, but symbolically in his face. “That’s a false question. There is no dose that would cause paralysis. Rather, the apricot pits can be ground to make a deadly poison. The worm itself can work as an antidote.”
He bares yellow teeth in an ugly smile. “Ah-ha!”
I hold up my hand. “If you’ll let me continue? The worm can work as an antidote, but only if fresh and alive when ingested. Never pickled.”
This time, Drysk laughs. “Enough, Grigos. She trounced you, and she looked good doing it. Let’s get moving before our client, Lord Pompous in there, wakes up from his third nap of the day.”
The poisoner glares at me with so much naked hatred, I know I’ve made an enemy for life. But I find that with actual Zhagarn and Fell after us, I don’t much care about this nasty little man.
“We need to move on as well,” Chitai says. “How are the roads?”
Drysk shrugs. “Same as ever. Pyrrh is safe enough for armed parties like ours. Khyrrus is more challenging. With the Zhagarn forces marching steadily westward, supplies are limited. Profiteering runs wild, but when the Khyrran army catches anybody at it, they execute them on the spot.”
“Quite a deterrent,” Kaelen drawls. “And for merchants traveling with our goods? Are we in danger?”
She eyes him with the contempt a fighter holds for someone she considers a useless lordling. “I’m sure you’ll be fine with a Sharnon warrior and a Sylvan at your side. Plus, you have a top-notch expert in poisons.”
Her eyes warm when she looks at me this time. Evidently, a murderous poisoner ranks higher in her mind than arm candy. “If you ever want a new post, leave word at any inn along this route to Khyrrus. I’m sure I pay better than this lot.”
She eyes Kaelen with dismissal. “At least I’ll give you your own horse.”
I’m so startled by the job offer I take a beat, but then I reach back and caress the side of the prince’s face. “Oh, I don’t know,” I say, trying on the seductive purr I’ve heard some of the library kitchen maids use with the stable hands. “This seat has its benefits.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “At any rate, the offer stands.”
Then she waves a hand in the air, and her group kicks their horses into motion. We do the same and pass each other amicably enough, except for Grigos, who glares at me the entire time.
We stay silent for several miles while my mind spins in circles, fixated on what just happened between us.
Suddenly mortified, I try to lean forward in the saddle, away from Kaelen, but his arm around my waist is a solid bar locking me in place, and the hand holding the reins convulsively tightens until his knuckles whiten.
“Kaelen?” I speak quietly and cautiously, remembering his berserker mode with the Zhagarn and Fell. Maybe the encounter with the mercenaries put him into battle readiness? I wish I knew more about Valourian warriors.
“I don’t understand this,” he says, his voice a mere thread of sound. “I can’t—What is happening to me? Did you poison me?”
“What?” I try to look over my shoulder at him, but he lifts his hand from my waist to my chin, holding my head in place. “Did I—”
“I don’t feel things like this,” he says savagely. “I don’t want. I don’t need. I’m always the one in control.”
I hold still, barely breathing. I don’t understand this, either.
“Why? Why you? Why now?”
“Um. The body’s reaction to danger and adrenaline—”
His harsh laugh interrupts me. “Yes, I know about that. Trust me. But I’ve been in plenty of dangerous situations without wanting to drag someone down off a horse afterward, strip them bare, and lick every inch of their body.”
Oh. Dear. Goddess.
We ride in silence for several more minutes, and I realize I’m not the only one trembling. His body is actually shuddering, and he’s inhaling huge gulps of air. Finally, minute by minute, both of us calm down, and the trembling stops.
“Well,” I finally offer in a small voice. “It was a lot of danger.”
This time, his laughter actually carries amusement. “Yes, Soli. It definitely was.”
A few moments later, Chitai and Andras ride up next to us. Andras raises an eyebrow at me, but Chitai is grinning so much I feel myself turning red. I wait for Kaelen to say something, but he remains frustratingly silent.
When I can’t take it anymore, I speak up in a bright voice. “That went well. The prince and I put on quite an act for them.”
Chitai gives me a side-eyed look and grins. “That’s one way to put it. I’ll range out front.”
Andras leans forward, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “I’ll be happy to volunteer to put on the act with you the next time we encounter any mercenaries, Soli.”
I gape at him, speechless.
“I don’t think so,” Kaelen grits out, but the Sylvan laughs and spurs his horse to follow Chitai.
“Soli,” Kaelen begins, but then we hear Neville’s horse trotting up next to us.
The sergeant frowns at Kaelen. “Not sure all of that was necessary, but one good thing came out of it.”
One good thing? Oh, I think more than that.
I finally had a kiss like the ones the great bards describe in their most storied tales.
I learned that I have to be much, much more careful around Kaelen.
And I almost came in my pants.
My face heats, and I look down, so neither Neville nor Kaelen can see my red cheeks.
“One good thing?” the prince asks.
“Yes. After her demonstration, our cover story is secure. They’ll tell the tale of the pretty young poisoner up and down the road for weeks. Hiding in plain sight.”
Kaelen laughs. “You’re a natural, Soli Graymind. When this is over, maybe you can take to the stage.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Or maybe I can become a poisoner in truth.”
This time, both men laugh, but I wasn’t entirely lying. Was I?
Yes. Yes, I was. I could never deliberately kill someone …
My mind serves up the memory of the dead Fell with my blade in him, and I flinch. If I live through this, I can decide what to do with the rest of my life, but I know one thing.
No part of it will involve murder.