12. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Caelan
“ I will not ride you,” the Touched woman practically huffed. If I’d let her keep her arms, she would’ve crossed them to go with her pout.
“You will.”
“I can likely climb better than you can, Slayer. I’ll climb down myself.”
“Your hands are tied,” I pointed out.
“Then untie them.” She was trying to sound cold and imperious, but I’d spent all my life surrounded by noble women. If she expected me to hop to like some common boy, she’d be disappointed.
“Your wound will split back open.”
She raised her chin. “You think I’m too weak to climb?”
“No. I think you’re too untrustworthy. You might strand me in the sands or orchestrate an escape for your master. Every step I take, you will take with me.”
She visibly swallowed, perhaps imagining how close our bodies would be. Her hatred of me was so strong, she couldn’t hide it if she wanted to.
“Now I’m going to squat down in front of you and you will wrap your arms around my neck. Then I will take us both over the edge, and you will direct my steps across the sands.”
Her eyes spat bright green fire. “I will do no such thing. We will climb down separately and walk together down the path.”
“Are you afraid I’ll drop you? I assure you I’m nearly as strong as Ufuk there.”
She was silent, her lips pressed tightly together.
I chuckled. “Did you think I would make it easy for you to lead me wrong?”
She was frozen for another long moment before she cleared her throat, as if gathering her nerve.
I grinned, knowing I’d won. I turned my back on her and squatted down.
I had no fear that she’d manage to hurt me and a great deal of curiosity about whether she’d try. Her daggers were at the bottom of Ufuk’s pack with Tajawl’s blade, and I’d be sure not to let her near them. She might try to draw my own weapons on me, but she was injured and restrained. Even trained in hand-to-hand combat, which she obviously was, the most she could hope for was to punch me in the back of the skull. I waited to see if she’d take the chance, just for spite.
She didn’t. Her slim body moved close and her arms descended around my neck.
“Huh. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or pleased," I said.
“Fuck you.”
“Feeling all the trust, though.”
She was so stiff, I thought she might spit in my ear. Giving her no warning, I reached back to take her legs in the crooks of my arms. I swept her off her feet, bringing them forward to wrap around my waist. Then I stood up swiftly so she had to tighten her arms to avoid tipping backwards.
She gasped. Beneath the surprise, I heard pain. Being stretched around me like this must pull on her split skin. That, too, was a pleasurable thought. Her response to pain had been…intriguing.
“You may bleed.”
She didn’t dignify that with an answer.
I approached the edge and sought to rid my mind of its distractions. I had little experience with climbing and none with navigating jagged glass handholds. My chest and hands were bare. At least the woman on my back would protect me from some of the suns’ light.
But she was the worst distraction of all. Her body shook, either with effort or fury. I’d have to see her face to tell which. I felt her breath though. It came hot and quick against my ear. Her hair fell on my neck and tickled it. Her chest pressed my bare back. Her breasts were small and covered with fabric, but I still imagined I could feel the shape of them.
You have more important things to focus on, I reminded myself. Yes, about a thousand more important things. I’d been separated from my squad in enemy lands. For all I knew, every member was dead. I carried the Heir of the Broken Realm as my prisoner and might be attacked by demons hoping to take him from me at any time. I had no expectation that the Touched woman would help me defend him; she despised me and probably still sought my death. And all this felt small when I thought of the dragon that had hatched in the Firecap Mountains.
Yet I’d focus on any of it if it meant I didn’t think of Junaid. The teasing scent of mountain flowers that wafted into my nose as the woman pressed close was only the most pleasant of my choices. Without her, I’d be alone with my thoughts. And despite the many concerns that vied for my attention, all my thoughts seemed to do was circle back again and again to the warmth of Junaid’s blood on my hands as I caught him in his final fall.
I slid one leg over the edge and planted it firmly on a foothold. I found a handhold near the top before I placed the other. I carefully stood back up again on the side of the glass tower.
The woman—I supposed I had to call her Eave, though I knew the name was false—took little gasps with each jerking movement. She must despise being helpless and so within my control. It was the first delight I’d enjoyed since I knocked Tanead unconscious.
As soon as we went over the edge, Eave froze against my back. Her muscles were tense and her breath came quickly on my neck.
I descended as quickly as I could, but I feared my grip slipping on the smooth glass. I wasn’t built to be in the air with my big oaf fingers the only thing keeping me from falling. Sharp stabs of pain interrupted my concentration as outcroppings grazed my bare chest and cut into my tightly gripping fingers. At least I had boots to protect the soles of my feet.
“Here?” I asked when we were close to the sand.
She hesitated for a moment, probably using her Sight to check the land's Threads. “Yes.”
I’d never felt so grateful for the feeling of my boots slipping through sand before. The relief turned to worry as they continued to sink down. I was opening my mouth to tell Eave how painful I’d make her death when my feet touched solid ground only half an arm’s length down. I let out a breath. Though I was only steps closer to the river than I’d been before, I felt I’d overcome a major hurdle.
Eave unwrapped her feet from my waist and let them hang loose. Her weight transferred to the front of my neck, increasing the pressure there. “Let me down.”
“We will take our steps together.”
“I will not ride you the whole way to the river,” she spat. “Let me down and keep me alongside you.”
“Shall I leash you so you don’t run away?”
Her body tensed at that and I chuckled. I bent my knees to allow her feet to touch the ground. As soon as she was able, she slipped her arms over my head and took a single step away.
“Ah ah ah,” I scolded. “No further.”
“The path is no wider than this anyway,” she said. “I cannot outrun you with my injury and I cannot fight you with no weapons and my hands tied.”
“No, but you could misdirect me and use the sands to kill me. Isn’t that what you promised? That the Motherland would come for me?”
She pursed her lips, seemingly irritated at her own sharp words. She’d said them when she thought she would kill me with her blades or die trying. Now that her chance had passed, she must use subtler methods to get what she wanted and her own words got in her way. I understood all this with one gaping hole in my knowledge: I had no idea what she wanted most, or why. I was only banking on her own survival being part of it.
“How’s your wound?” I reached out a hand and she recoiled.
"Fine," I said shortly. I caught Ufuk's reins instead. "Get in front."
Eave's face was carefully neutral as she stepped into place just ahead of me. It was not neutral when I pulled Arbaaz' leash from Ufuk's pack and tucked it through the wrap around her stomach. Her eyes sparked with fury as she trailed its path to my closed fist. "Are you serious?"
I'd always liked leashes, or rather, the idea of them. Never found a woman to play with them with, not that this was exactly the 'play' I'd had in mind.
"You're right, too much give," I said. I tugged gently and she was forced to take a step back. Well, it might not be play, but at least I was having fun. I leaned forward and Eave leaned away, a war on her face as she tried to mask her fury and hatred.
“If I think for a moment that you are about to send me into trouble, I will snap your neck like a rabid dog’s.”
I wanted to see her shiver in fear at my threat, but she only raised her chin defiantly. “Are you ready, then?”
I grinned. I did like the challenge of her. “Yes.”
Ufuk trailed behind us, keeping Eave far from Tajawl and her weapons. The suns told me which way was east, but beyond that, I had little sense of the necessary direction. East would take me to the River of Madness, but I might end up north or south of the crossing. But Eave’s Sight gave her a map of the land that I couldn’t see. One step at a time, she guided me through it.
As we walked, I sought to banish my dark thoughts with small talk, but Eave was inconsistent with her responses. My mind entertained itself thinking of ways to make her speak. I could unwrap the belt around her wrists and thrash her with it. I could force her to crawl to me and kiss the boots of a Slayer. Such humiliation would likely be more effective than pain, which she’d shown an astounding mastery of.
I couldn’t stop thinking of what she’d said when I dressed her wound: “Everything that matters hurts.” She’d said it as if it was of no consequence to her at all. I wanted to know what sort of life she’d led that gave her such acceptance when I constantly struggled to find any.
“How long have you served as Tajawl’s priestess?”
“Four cycles.”
“And before that?”
“Why?”
“I haven’t met many Touched. I’m curious.”
“You think you might’ve seen me in a Temple service?” she mocked.
“You were born in Vaharilar.”
She hesitated. “Yes. In the Mouth. But I was sold to a Losian very young.”
“What happened to your previous master?”
“He’s still alive,” she said, sounding amused.
“Why did he get rid of you?”
“He didn’t. I defected to Tajawl. Better to serve a master who may one day rule, don’t you think?”
Yes, that’s what all the eager whores and young noblewomen thought, too. The notion, though familiar, had always made me feel entirely unseen, a stand-in doll with a crown whose uniqueness meant nothing.
“Tanead Tajawl will never rule,” I said harshly.
She shrugged like it was nothing. “He was the closest I could find in Los.”
“And now you’ve found me. Lucky for you,” I said.
“Poor prince. Are you the victim of many women who are interested only in the power of your position? I assure you, I’m not one of them.”
“A shame. If you were, it would be counterproductive to kill me,” I joked. It amused me that I was more comfortable with a woman who wanted to murder me than one who wanted to marry me to earn a title.
“Where’d you get your daggers?” I asked. I’d had a chance to look at them when I packed them away. The blades were as mysterious as she was. Fit for a royal, carved from ancient dragonstone.
“Oh, the Losians have caches of dragonstone weapons everywhere,” Eave said lightly. An obvious lie. And yet Tajawl’s scimitar had a dragonstone hilt, smoothed and rounded by a master craftsman in a bygone age. Together with her daggers, it didn’t exactly prove her words false. “I’m sure they’ll come in handy when Los finally attacks Vaharilar,” she added.
“Los never stops attacking us. The demons have attacked the border so many times since the Conqueror killed the last dragon, we don’t even bother to give their little uprisings names anymore. When my father was a young emperor, they rose against him with rare force. It was Ead Tajawl who led the charge across the River of Madness. My father killed so many demons that cycle that there aren’t enough left to rise in force again, and there won’t be for several more generations.”
“Ah, but they didn’t have a dragon then.”
I clenched my jaw, irritated that she was right. The Crust shivered, a further reminder. I clutched more tightly to Ufuk’s reins and sank into a low stance, but Eave only smirked over her shoulder at my caution and walked on. She seemed to know that nothing worse was coming.
“Did you witness the Rebirth through your Sight?”
Eave stayed silent. I’d have to goad her into answering.
“The Touched are the gods’ servants. Does it bother you to betray your reborn god by helping me?”
I wished I could study her reaction, but she stared straight ahead, ignoring the Crust's continuing tremble. “Some Touched serve the Father,” she said evenly. "Yet serving Anu might be considered a betrayal of the other dragon-gods."
“Of course. I’m surprised you avoided the honor of a Temple position, being born in the Mouth.” Most Touched, peasant or noble, were claimed young by the Temple of Divine Right and made into priestesses. They were kept out of prominent roles, mostly serving as advisers to High Priests, wielded as weapons in the games of ambition the priests played amongst themselves.
“My family was not loyalist. They hid me from the local priest and sold me into slavery in Los when I was a child.”
I could not hide my distaste. “Better to be a slave to a demon than a priestess of the Father?”
“It is what they believed.”
“I suppose all children, from peasants to princes, must suffer the direction of their parents,” I said.
“Better that than to have no direction at all,” she said.
“Is it? Funny to hear a slave say so, when as a prince, I disagree.”
“Not a surprise. Choice spoils a person. You get a little and you only want more.”
“Freedom is like that, I hear.”
“You hear. You pretend you don’t know?” she said.
“No royal knows freedom. The crown is a chain of its own kind. I cannot choose who I am or what path I walk in the world. My name chooses for me.”
“A destiny not exclusive to princes. A village blacksmith’s boy could say the same.”
“And we’re back to the conclusion that families are a curse. Now you’ll say, as you did before, that they are not.” Secretly, I was pleased she was speaking so much, though every word she spoke seemed to add to the mystery of her rather than solve it.
“It’s no curse to know who you are and what role you are to play. It’s a blessing,” she said, too fervently to be lying.
“Why?”
She paused a beat. “What?”
“Why is it such a blessing?”
A longer pause. I feared she’d stop speaking again, but I was too curious what her answer was to change the subject.
“It—it just is. I can’t explain it to you.” She said this as if she thought me too deficient to understand. But I knew defensiveness when I saw it.
“I see. Did the parents who sold you tell you that, or did you learn it from one of your masters?”
She was silent.
“You never did tell me how you ended up serving Tajawl. Your parents must have been awfully well-connected within Los if they could get close to him.”
“My first master didn’t know Tajawl. He was nobody.”
“And you served him…as a priestess?” I tried to keep my tone cool and curious but she raised an eyebrow and answered mockingly.
“How else might I have served, Prince? The Losians aren’t fond of shackled whores like the Vaharilarans are.”
I let a wolfish grin spread across my face. “I do like shackles,” I said, just for the pleasure of watching her try to mask her disgust.
But she surprised me. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes dropped to the sand. The image of her kneeling before me, submissive and accepting of whatever treatment she was about to receive, overtook me. My cock twitched as Eave turned quickly away. Was she hoping I hadn’t noticed her strange response?
Of course, it could be an act.
Yes, it probably was. She clearly knew of my family’s sexual inclinations. I mean, I had her on a leash already. She was using the knowledge to try to manipulate me.
Eave turned abruptly and I practically ran into her when she stopped, holding her arms out to her sides as if she feared she would lose her balance.
“What is it?” I peered around her shoulder to get a look at her face.
Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted in concentration. “I think—I’ve brought us to a crevasse of sand. The glass beneath us is layered now and it can be difficult to read. We’ll have to turn back and travel on a little south.”
I scanned our surroundings, half-expecting a small army of demons to rise from the sands and attack at any moment. But I saw nothing out of place, and neither did Arbaaz. He circled high overhead, keeping watch. Periodically, I dipped into his mind to scan the landscape myself.
“So we turn back.”
Eave opened her green eyes. A frown furrowed her brow. “You’re not angry.”
“You made a mistake.”
“Well…yes.”
“Don’t do it again. Next time, be sure.”
I called a rest and sipped from my rapidly emptying canteen as Eave sat cross-legged on the ground with her eyes closed. I wanted to close my own. Weariness was settling over me like a heavy weight. I peeled back the bandage I’d tied on my arm and saw that the shallow wound I'd taken from Tanead's sword had angry raw edges. Threads of black spidered out on either side. I wanted to ask Eave if Tajawl’s blade had been poisoned and what the venom would do to me, but I didn’t want her to know I was weakened.
Lucky for me, her eyes were closed. She sat there for a disturbingly long time, presumably assessing the land. I guess I’d needed her help more than I even realized. Either that or she was putting on a good show.
If she wasn’t lying, I despaired for the safe return of the others. Baris, Broker, and even Nahome. Junaid and Joab would never return.
“Are you finished yet?” I snapped, to pull myself from that line of thought.
Eave frowned more deeply. “No.”
I waited with rising impatience and she opened her eyes to my glare. She looked as displeased as I was when she said, “We must use a tunnel.”
I tensed. “What tunnel?”
“Tunnels once used by dragons lie beneath all of Los. It’s how our party snuck up on you.”
My interest sharpened. “These tunnels run beneath the glass plains?”
“The plains, the sands, the hills.”
“Then why haven’t we been traveling in them before now? Surely they’re safer than being on the surface.”
She shrugged.
I studied her coldly, but she was nearly as good at masking her true emotions and intentions as a noble of my father’s court.
“You didn’t want me to know they exist. That’s why you tried to keep me out of them.”
Her chin rose and her eyes shined as they met mine boldly. “I’ve chosen to help you live, but I don’t mean to help you kill Losians. Your people have never known about the tunnels and I didn’t wish you to know now.”
“There you go again with this ‘your people’ nonsense. You do realize you’re not Losian.”
She smiled with bitter irony, and I wondered desperately why. I was delighted to see her true face again, rather than the act she put on. I shouldn’t be. I should be wary and cold, as if she were a demon herself. But she was not a demon. She was an enigma.
“Well, you’ve told me now. Take me there.”
We went on as we had before, me a half-step behind her.
"How did you get the scar on your back?" she asked after she assured me we were back on stable ground.
I was glad she was ahead of me and could not see how her words made my entire body go stiff as memories that had long ago become feed for nightmares flooded my consciousness. “None of your business. Unless you'd like me to strip you naked and study your scars?” I answered sharply.
That shut her up, as I’d meant for it to.
The entrance to the tunnel was hidden beneath a sheet of glass that leaned against another. Eave lowered gingerly and lay on her side, keeping her injured stomach off the ground. “It looks empty of sand. At least, empty enough.”
I peered in behind her. “It’ll be hard on Ufuk, but it looks manageable. Are you sure the tunnel won’t get too tight for him to pass?”
“Yes, they’re very wide.”
“And the exits are large enough and not too inclined? He’ll be able to get out?”
“Not all, but I’ll find one.”
“You’d better.” I tried to summon up the sort of tone my father used at court. “You’ll ride me again.”
She pursed her lips but didn’t argue. Her motions were perfunctory and stiff as her arms came around my neck. I guided Ufuk through the channel and then followed him down the ramp. But my boot slipped, and I slid a few steps before falling. I twisted to land on my side rather than on Eave, and used my arms to brace us.
It wasn’t too rough a fall, for a padding of sand cushioned us, but Eave cried out as we landed. Her arms tightened around my neck and she took a shaky breath in.
I scanned our surroundings for a trap—Arbaaz was above now, and couldn’t help me. When I saw nothing, I got to my knees so she could unwrap herself from me.
Eave swallowed, still breathing heavily. She took a few steps away so that she could lean against the wall. Her arms, still tied together, cradled the air before her stomach. Her wrap had shifted and her gash was coated in sand from our landing. I should wash her wound once more, but I had little water left.
“How far are we from the river?”
“Hard to say.”
“Say,” I commanded.
Her breathing was normalizing. “We won’t reach it before full dark. We’ll have to spend the night in here. But we should reach it before nightfall tomorrow.”
I sighed. It was a long time. I’d thought us closer than that. She might be stalling. But if she was, there was little I could do.
I dosed Tanead with more poppy powder while I considered the best course of action.
The suns had begun their descent. If Eave’s timeline was correct, I could go without water from now until we reached the river. But what about Ufuk? If I poured all my water out into her gut, what would he lap off the glass to quench his thirst?
I poured a little for him then approached Eave with the canteen.
She flinched away.
I thrust it out and she jumped back, then looked ashamed of herself. She snapped her hand out to grab the canteen.
“Take your last sip and make it a small one. The rest will clean your wound.”
She froze with the canteen halfway to her mouth. The eyes that came to rest on me were full of suspicion. The silence drew out.
“Yes?” I snapped after I grew tired of it.
“I’m trying to figure out why you would spend your last water to dress my wound.”
“Have you considered the obvious?”
“Is there something obvious?”
“If I don’t clean it, it’ll fester and you’ll die. I could hope it won’t get irreversibly bad before we reach the river, but I’m not really a hopeful man.”
“If I die, what’s it to you?” Her genuine shock seemed to have unlocked her tongue. Or maybe she was in a lot of pain again. That seemed to have a similar effect.
“I don’t like killing innocents.”
“Am I innocent? I fought you. You gave me this in defense of yourself.”
I shrugged. “You’re not fighting me now.”
Her frown just grew deeper and deeper. She spoke as if she were actually getting angry. “What is the matter with you?”
I moved in very close and very fast. She gasped as my hand closed around the front of her throat. I tilted her head back to make her look at me. My other hand went to the small of her back and pressed her close to me. There was only the single layer of fabric she wore between us. Her breaths were shallow and her eyes were very wide and…I saw with satisfaction…frightened.
“If you think there’s something wrong with a man who doesn’t like to kill innocent women and children, then I don’t know why you hate my family. You should beg to serve them. My brother in particular, I think you would enjoy.
“Now I will tell you the truth about me, Eave, though you’ve not done the same. I like causing pain. I like—” I pressed on her back to see her wince as her cut was stretched tight “—causing pain very much, under the right circumstances. But unintentional suffering is of no interest to me. I like to hurt those who deserve it.” Who want it.
I didn’t say that last part. It was too absurd for anyone but me to understand.
“Now I did wound you, though not for my pleasure. But I did not mean to crash down into this tunnel with you on my back and it does not please me for your wound to be tortured by the elements. It pleases me to dig the sand particles out of it and hurt it myself. Do you understand?”
Eave’s body was wracked with little shivers. Her wide eyes had not left mine since I started speaking. They’d hardly blinked. Her cheeks were flushed again, and this time, I was sure it was real. She must be afraid.
Good.
I let go of her abruptly and her hands flew out to the wall to steady herself.
“Unwrap the bandage and lie down,” I said, my voice still cold.
She rushed to obey.
It wasn’t until I knelt over her and looked at her face that I knew that it was not fear that made her move so eagerly to obey my command. It was something else.
The moment stretched out between us as I knelt beside her prone body, not yet touching her. Her eyes steadily held mine and her breathing had slowed. Her cheeks were still flushed. She bit her lip and I wanted to lean in and bite it, too.
She is an enemy. She hates you. Don’t fall for this!
I would not be made a fool by a talented pretender’s display of false lust.
“This will hurt,” I said, like a fool.
“Good,” her husky voice answered. Father be damned, how could she fake such eagerness?
I opened my canteen and poured. I was not gentle. My fingers dug into her cut and scraped out the sand. She cried out loudly before she clamped her lips closed to quiet herself. Her fingers opened and closed. Her body writhed.
I was breathing heavily and my cock was rock-hard when I finished. It probably took mere moments, though I felt like I’d been in her forever.
I pounded the strip of cloth with my fist until it was clean, then I wrapped it around her once more. I leaned in close.
“You said you wouldn’t scream for me,” I whispered. “You’re a liar.”