A Kiss of Fire: A Kiss of Magic Book 2 Page 4

  A blinding memory of his kiss that night in the gardens came screaming at her. The heat…oh, the heat of it. She had been burned for the first time in her life. Burned in such a way that she had smarted from it for days afterward. For weeks afterward. In fact, she had just finally managed to make it through a day without thinking about it once. Well, not more than once in any event. The rawness of it came back to her now though. Along with the understanding that she would see him again soon. If they were bringing her to him, she would see him again very soon.

  She told herself that didn’t excite her as much as it did frighten her, but that didn’t ring very true. There was very little she was afraid of, but since she wasn't willing to be honest with herself right then, she put it down to fear.

  Oh but what kind of man would do something like this? Something so heinous and utterly wicked? And once he had her, what was he planning to do with her?

  She pushed away the immediate answer that sent more heat blooming beneath her skin. What was wrong with her? This was a violation, pure and simple. And he had dragged Mariah into this as well. She would never forgive him for endangering her and the guards who had been protecting her.

  How long had he been waiting for her? How long had he been lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to snatch her away? One month? Two? Oh why had she made it so easy for him? Why hadn’t she gone out with a full contingent of guards like she was supposed to?

  Because she hated feeling like she needed protecting from her own people. Because she had felt safe among them. She had never considered danger from a source outside of her own people. Well…perhaps she had considered it, but she had also considered that anyone who would be damned fool enough to do so wouldn’t for risk of creating a war.

  However, if anyone were fool enough it would be Raja Sin. He had gone to war for land. He had thought little of throwing lives away in the goal of what he had wanted. He would easily do so again. And now that they had their land, the borders between their countries were much increased. They would have an even stronger foothold than they had when first they had gone to war. Now here was Sin doing whatever he wanted to get whatever he wanted and damn all the consequences. He would be throwing away lives both Kiltian and Saren and for what?

  For what?

  What did he want with her really? This couldn’t possibly be about…Raja Sin was many things, but he was not a fool. This was a foolish act. It was impulsive and poorly thought out.

  Then again, maybe not. He might have been planning this for a lot longer than she realized. Maybe this had nothing to do with that kiss in the gardens and everything to do with wanting more land. During their initial bargaining he had wanted the entire Triagle Territory. In the end he had settled for half. Still that half had increased his country in size by half. If he had gotten the entire territory it would have double Kilt’s size.

  Regardless of his reasons, they were rooted in selfish greed. He thought to satisfy his own needs and to both hells with everyone else. It made him a terrible leader.

  She had misjudged him. She had thought him to be, regardless of his barbarity, a thoughtful leader. A man who was looking out for his people’s best interest. But now she realized he was none of that. He was barbaric, plain and simple. No complexity. No intelligence. And certainly no moral right or wrong.

  Well, he wouldn’t get away with this. Her fellow triumvirs would move the heavens aside in their search for her. When they found her they would do the same to reclaim her. Sin may have her now, but it would not last.

  That is…if they could ever discover what had happened to her. They were no longer in the city, so clearly they had made it that far. But once news of her abduction reached the right ears the city would be locked down and all roads leading away from it would be searched for clues to her whereabouts.

  They hit another rut in the road and it knocked her off her feet. She sprawled back onto her bench gracelessly and when she caught her balance she threw a little frustrated tantrum.

  “Oh! I’m going to burn him to a crisp when I get hold of him!”

  Only she wasn’t going to be able to do that. He was just like her. Impervious to fire. Able to call fire with his bare hands, transforming the raw majic channeled through them. And he had an Aspano majji—no wait, they called them Jadoc shamans—with him and was thus controlling her mind using him. Her defenses of the mind were as adequate as any majji of her ability, but it was clearly not enough to stand up against this shaman.

  That last jolt had been strong enough to awaken Mariah. She blinked blearily and then focused through the dimness to see Ariana sitting across from her.

  “My lady!” she cried, sitting up quickly. She swayed a moment, her hand going to her head.

  “Easy,” Ariana soothed. “They’ve been using very powerful mind majic on us. Being a non, it will leave you with some after effects.”

  Mariah was a non, what Ariana’s people called those who cannot use majic. Something in a non’s genetics kept them from being able to create majic. These nons usually served to fill many menial or proletarian jobs. Ariana could have asked for a majji for a lady maid and hundreds would have fallen over themselves for the opportunity even if it was a servile position, but she had chosen sweet little non Mariah and had been grateful for her every day. Mariah had always been discreet and a very good listener and friend. Mariah knew things about her that even her most intimate acquaintances did not know. And Mariah was loyal to a fault. She did not gossip like many other servants did. She did not speak out of turn or betray any confidences. Ariana had depended on her greatly for being the sounding board in her life where she could show any and all emotions, share her worst moments, share her most unattractive qualities which she kept strictly hidden from all those who would judge her.

  Whenever she began to feel fake or devoid of her own character as she smiled and acted the part of the perfect triumvir, Mariah had been there to remind her of herself. Of who she was on the inside…and how valuable it was to keep in touch with herself.

  And now this was the thanks she was getting. Being kidnapped and dragged…who knew where. Kilt, she thought. Where in Kilt was anyone’s guess, but she had no doubt Sin was going to bring her into the safety of his own borders.

  “Mariah, I’m sorry but I think we’ve been kidnapped.”

  “I know,” she said as the women were jounced yet again.

  “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be any part of this. It’s me they want.”

  “I know that too. But they asked me if I wanted to come with you, and I said yes.”

  Ariana looked at her maid with bald shock.

  “You volunteered to come?”

  “Yes my lady,” she said softly. “Was that wrong of me? Should I have stayed behind so they could ask me about what had happened?” she asked, her accent, common among the lower classes, grew thicker with the words of anxiety.

  “You should have stayed behind because you don’t deserve to be taken from your home like this! Bad enough it is happening to me!”

  “Ah no! I couldn’t let you be taken by these barbarians with not a friend in the world by your side!”

  Ariana felt grateful tears burn at her eyes as she reached across and grasped Mariah’s hands with hers.

  “You’re a good friend Mariah.”

  “Do you know who has us? Where we are going?”

  “I’m not certain, but I suspect almost positively it is Raja Sin and his men who have done this and that means we are headed for Kilt.”

  “Kilt! But that is almost two weeks of travel to the border in a wagon like this!”

  “And then who knows how much further in beyond them.”

  “And we are to be taken in this…this prison the entire way?”

  “So it would seem.” Ariana sighed. “But they have to stop and let us out sometime to tend to our basic human needs. For instance, I could use a bathroom.”

  “So could I.”

  “Well, let’s see what kind of demands we
can make, shall we?”

  Ariana stood up and, grasping at the bars of the window she pulled her mouth up to level with it and shouted, “Hey! Hey out there we need to stop this very minute!”

  There was no response. The carriage merely lumbered on.

  “We need to…” Ariana flushed. She wasn’t used to talking about her bodily functions where everyone could hear her. Especially, no doubt, with what was a group of men. “We need to relieve ourselves!”

  After a moment, the carriage came to a halt. Ariana stepped back from the door as it was unlocked—it sounded as though there were heavy chains involved as well—and the door opened. Both women flinched as sunlight came streaming into their dark cubby. After blinking her burning eyes for a moment, she focused on the man she had seen earlier, when she had been taken. The Jadoc shaman. What was his name? She couldn’t remember.

  “One at a time,” he said, his tone brusque and deep.

  Damn. That meant that if the opportunity arose for her to escape, she would have to leave Mariah behind. But maybe they would let her go once she was gone and they no longer had any use for her.

  “Or…” the Jadoc said, “if we have no use for her we can eliminate the trouble entirely.”

  Ariana gasped at how easily he read her mind and at the implied threat in his words. She could keep nothing from him. She would never be able to plan an escape if he could merely anticipate it from her thoughts at any given moment.

  “Are you coming or not?” he asked.

  Ariana stood up and, ignoring his offered hand, she climbed out of the carriage.

  She saw they were in the middle of a field and her heart sank. They weren't on the road. They were traveling across country through fields, thus avoiding detection from anyone searching the road for them. That explained the ruts they were continually hitting.

  “There are some trees over this way. They should provide you with a modicum of privacy,” her jailor said. He did not smirk or leer. He was cool and…professional. Matter of fact.

  Ariana looked around and saw they were a small party. The carriage was the center of the party, with a double team of stout strong horses to pull it, rather than sleek fast ones as was the rage among higher-class Saren males these days. It was wise since they were pulling such a heavy load over such rough country. But all four horses were dappled with grey and white spots and had white manes. She had never seen their like before.

  The rest of the party consisted of about six men on horseback and one empty horse, she presumed it was the Jadoc’s horse. She searched the faces of the men, looking for the face she wanted. But she was thwarted by the hoods of their cloaks and the way they turned their heads away. Any one of them could be Sin.

  Well, not any one of them. Sin was a large man, boasting extraordinarily broad shoulders and a height rivaling Dendri Adiron, who stood at a good six feet six inches tall. There was no man among these that fit that that build.

  So. He had sent others to do his dirty work for him. But at least one of these was a Fyre shaman, the equivalent of what she was—a Torrenic majji. She knew this because someone had thwarted her use of a fireball during her kidnapping in the city. Plus, as powerful as the Jadoc was, he was not fireproof. Sin would not risk her setting all of his men on fire and making her escape that way.

  “Good. You see the futility of your situation,” the Jadoc said.

  That angered her. “You are going to pay for being a part of this!” she hissed at him.

  “I think not. No one knows where you are. No one knows who took you. And if they did happen to figure it out, by the time they catch up to us we’ll be in Kiltian lands.”

  “A party on horseback can scour the countryside three times as fast as this lumbering iron contraption can move,” she said, indicating her fireproof prison.

  “True. But it is a very large country,” he said smugly.

  Ariana gritted her teeth, knowing he was right. He had a right to be smug, for all she wanted to slap the expression from his face. But a carriage like this would be far from untraceable. Rescuers would have to figure out where they went off road in it. If they figured that out, then maybe they could follow tracks leading to them.

  “My my, what a fanciful mind you have,” the arrogant Jadoc said. “Believe me when I tell you, no one can track us.”

  “Anyone can be tracked!” she hissed. “That’s why they call it tracking! Everything leaves a trail that can be followed.”

  “Hmm. True. But you first have to know what you’re looking for. And, I’m sorry to tell you, not many people will notice a tradesman’s wagon carrying two sacks of burlap goods out of the city. And then you were carried on horseback off the road a good distance before you were brought into the conveyance that now carries you. It would take a miraculous tracker to be able to follow three different modes of travel when they do not even know what they are looking for in the first place.”

  “You are risking a war! Can’t you see how dangerous this is? Your leader is a madman!”

  “Perhaps, but he’s my leader. And what he says goes.”

  But Ariana saw a flicker of something in the man’s expression. It was ever so brief, but if she had to mark it with a name she would call it concern. He might be going along with what his leader has demanded of him, but he didn’t fully agree with the actions. She could use that.

  “Is she taking a piss or not?” one of the men on horseback asked crudely.

  She looked up at the man with fury in her eyes. Even on horseback she could tell he was of shorter, stockier build than the man she presently stood before, with dirt water brown eyes and a balding pate with the remnants of salt-and-pepper hair. He ignored her glare and spit onto the ground. She couldn’t even give him the name barbarian. He seemed so much worse than that.

  “I’ll take her if you like. Been a while since I had a woman drop her lacy drawers for me. Then again, my women don’t usually have lacy drawers.” He eyed her up and down lasciviously. “But you do. I can tell.”

  “Your women probably never even heard of drawers because they don’t have time to pull them up before the next customer comes along!” she spat at him.

  The other men chuckled and the man shifted irritably in his saddle.

  “You might want to watch yourself, princess. Sin is gonna want you nice and docile by the time you reach Kilt. Maybe I’ll take a few turns and show you what a hoity-toity thing like you’s been missing.”

  “Enough Mordol,” the Jadoc warned him. Then he reached to take her elbow in hand, as if to guide her away.

  “Touch me and I’ll burn your skin off,” she hissed at him.

  He paused and then held up his hand in acquiescence.

  “No one is here to hurt you,” he said.

  “Tell that to Mordol,” she ground out. “And you’ve already hurt me. By taking me from my home you’ve abused me very badly.”

  “I’m sorry but that could not be helped.”

  “It couldn’t be helped? Of course it could have been helped! You could have done the sane thing and left me alone!”

  Again there was that flicker of doubt in his eyes.

  “Take me back,” she begged urgently. “Take me back now and I promise you nothing will happen.” When she was met with stony silence she said, “Would you really risk a war with these actions?”

  His expression turned hard, his mouth grim. “Even if they could figure out who has taken you, I doubt your people would risk thousands of lives for the life of one woman.”

  The observation left her cold. What if he was right? Would they really go to war for her? Would she really want them too?

  No. She wouldn’t want them to. She wouldn’t want to throw away countless lives because of her.

  Squaring her shoulders and lifting her head proudly, she marched off into the trees with the Jadoc by her side. The Jadoc was tall. Not as tall as his master though, and had black hair and eerily fair blue eyes. She had long ago noticed that all Kiltians were dark haired, ranging
from black to brown. Rarely blond and never red like hers. She had always wondered why that was. Surely the Kiltians had mated with the occasional Saren over autumns past before the wars. Why wouldn’t they have some more blonds and even some redheads? Were their traits just that dominant?

  He led her to a copse of trees then after raising a brow, he turned his back on her. He was close enough to her to hear everything she did and that made her blush. He was also close enough to catch her if she should decide to flee. She thought they were far enough away from the others that she could burn him and then make a run for it…but that would be silly. She was on foot and they were on horseback. She was but one woman and they were a band of men. And even if she could burn them all to a crisp, she had no idea where she was. There was nothing but fields and a forest for as far as the eye could see. Where would she go? How far was it to the nearest sign of civilization? She could walk for days without coming into contact with someone without knowing where she was or what direction to go in. And what of Mariah? She could keep warm, but Mariah could freeze to death if the temperatures dropped much lower. The sun was shining now, but soon snow would come. It was due any day. Even more likely the further north they went toward Kilt.

  No. She had no recourse here. She had no choice but to let them take her where they would.

  “I’m glad you realize that, my lady,” the Jadoc said.

  Angry and frustrated, she went about her business. When she was done she drew abreast of the Jadoc and they walked back toward the carriage.

  “Mariah will grow cold in that huge metal coffin,” she said bitterly. “You must give her a coat or blanket.”

  “We have blankets. There are warming stones on the floor of the carriage. Surely you can heat them up for her feet.”

  She flushed. She had not noticed the stones. “Yes. I can.”

  “You can share your body warmth with her as well. You can generate more body heat than most.”