A Magic King (45 page)

She made him laugh. And cry. And feel and think things he never thought possible. Even in the heart of the Tarveen colony, her face smeared with dirt and tears, she was the most beautiful, most exasperating, most delightful person in his world.

He loved her.

The thought came at an odd moment. It hit him square in the chest as he crossed over the dead Tarvite into the hallway. She was leading the way, and he was about to pull her behind him when the realization came.

He loved her. And he would become less than half a man if he ever lost her.

So it was a fitting moment, given the perversions of the Crones of Fate, that at that second, she was killed.

He should have led, and he would forever damn himself for not reacting sooner. She passed by an opening in the hallway. He was two steps behind, still absorbing his sudden self-knowledge. The Tarvite appeared from the other corridor, already reared up on its hind legs in attack position. Daken had barely registered the insect when its grabbers lashed out, snapping around Jane like sucking vines and drawing her in. She didn't have time to scream before she landed flat on her face, the Tarvite on top of her.

Then she did scream, the sound reverberating as his sword severed the Tarvite's head from its body.

It was too late. The insect's mandibles cut through her shoulder and most of her neck. He dropped to his knees, tossing aside his sword as he poured all of his healing skill into her. The Power ran thick in this complex, and it swelled around him like a vast ocean, there for his taking.

She stirred, moaning beneath him. His hands were covered with her blood, his brow dripping with sweat as he focused on joining her severed arteries, reknitting her jagged muscles, and covering her wound with a thin layer of skin.

Then he sagged to the floor, too weak to do more right now.

"I feel awful," she muttered beside him.

"Yeah? Welcome to reality," he shot back, using one of her pet phrases.

She rolled over, her face pale, her eyes slightly glazed. "Actually, I feel kinda weird. Sorta numb."

"It's the poison." He still breathed hard, his vision bleared by exhaustion. "I can't... I'm not strong enough to handle it now. Maybe my father..." His voice trailed off into bitterness. Never before had his inadequacies as a healer hurt more.

"No," she said, her words slow. "It's too late. I'm dying, aren't I?" Her head rolled back down toward the floor as the Tarvite's poison seeped into her healed muscles. "Always knew I'd never have children."

"You won't die," he growled, gathering his strength, pulling the Power to him by sheer force of will.

"No," she said, her words slurring together. "Too late. Save strength."

Even dying, her mind was quick. She understood the problem. Healing her wound had already taxed his strength. Neutralizing the poison would leave him next to comatose. There was no way they'd make it up the ropes to the shaft, to say nothing of to the boat.

"Set bomb." She barely had the strength to draw breath, but her words came clearly to him. "I die quick."

"You won't die," he repeated, leaning forward and placing his hands once again on her wound.

Neutralizing poison was a difficult and time-consuming process. He mentally traveled through her body, finding and purging her of the deadly substance. But as he passed his healing into her blood, he was painfully aware of their vulnerable position. More Tarveen could even now rear up to sink their mandibles into them. And Daken was their only protection.

In the end, he compromised. Unwilling to take the time to completely neutralize the poison, he did what he could, repairing the major organ damage as he went. The process left them both pathetically weak, but at least alive. He would be able to swing a sword. She would be able to walk.

The difference was he would recover, but without further healing, Jane had at most an hour before the poison started killing her brain. And the mind was something no healer could repair.

He finished as much as he had strength to mend, then fell to the floor, one hand automatically reaching for his sword even though he hadn't the strength to lift it.

The corridor was mercifully empty of Tarveen, and he closed his eyes for a swift prayer of thanks. Then he snapped them back open when he heard Jane move.

"That was really dumb," she said, and he was pleased to hear the new strength in her voice.

"A simple thanks would suffice," he muttered.

"We're dead," she continued, ignoring him. "Unless you can get up the ropes, I'm going to have to defend us with your sword." She sat up, then stopped mid-motion, clearly fighting a wave of dizziness. When she finally opened her eyes again, it was to glare at him and repeat her statement of doom. "Why didn't you just leave me?"

"Don't move too fast. The poison still—"

"Be quiet," she interrupted. "Just be quiet and rest."

He obediently closed his mouth, but his expression was designed to convey his annoyance with her female emotionalism.

"Close your eyes, Daken. Take a nap. Do whatever it takes to get better, and do it fast. We're damn exposed here."

Daken closed his eyes, absently noting he was once again torn between strangling her and bedding her. By the Father, she was a magnificent woman. She almost died, and here she was still ordering him around. Suddenly he felt her lips on his.

"Thank you," she whispered as she trailed her kisses along his left cheek. "You're still a damn fool, but I thank you." She kissed him one last time, stroking his lips with her tongue until he opened his mouth, luring her closer so he could thrust into her.

She released a slight gasp of surprise, then pulled back, tugging on his arm. "You're incorrigible. Now get up. We're going to the boat."

"No," he said, opening his eyes. Already he felt some of his strength returning. This place was indeed strong in the Power.

"What do you mean, no? We're getting out of here now."

He levered himself up until he slouched against the wall. Then he caught her gaze and spoke with slow, deliberate words.

"I would never choose my people over you, Jane."

"That's great, Daken—"

"Or you over my people."

"Now can we please—"

"I choose both—you and my people."

Jane stared at him a moment. "I can see you're using a man's logic."

"I will set off the bomb."

"You can barely stand!"

He shoved off the wall, grabbing her backpack as he moved. "I'm going now. You start back through the shaft."

"While you blow yourself up?" She fell in step beside him. "If we're going to commit suicide, we do it the old fashioned way—together and in flames."

"Is that how it was done in your time?"

"No. Mostly it was done by shopping at a convenience store after dark."

"Oh."

They made it to the hatchery soon afterwards. And in truth, he was glad she was with him. He didn't like the idea of her going back to the storeroom alone, but he worried about the poison still in her system. While he felt his strength returning with every breath he took in this power-rich environment, he knew she grew weaker. The more she exerted herself, the more poison wormed its way into her organs. He wanted to make her lie down. Instead, he steadied himself on her arm as they stumbled over mounds of Tarveen eggs.

"Wow," she breathed beside him, just inside the hatchery entrance. "There must be millions of them."

There did indeed appear to be a few thousand at least of the boulder-sized eggs, each neatly nestled within a long capsule. Fortunately, the eggs closest to them appeared relatively young and almost beautiful as the torchlight flared off of their milky white color. It was the ones at the far wall he kept his eyes on. He could see the cracked pieces of several burst eggs. A few more quivered as other Tarveen young prepared to emerge.

"We better hurry," he said, shrugging out of her backpack, "before some of them hatch."

Jane nodded, her face grim as she helped him pull open her backpack. The strange fastening device she called "a zipper" caught on one of the fabric strings inside, but she cursed and ripped it past the obstruction. Then he reached inside, drawing out the Elven Lord's bomb.

Jane gasped when he pulled it out, and he agreed with the astonishment on her face.

"It's so beautiful," she breathed.

He nodded, holding up the glowing ball of crystal. Inside it, a flame seemed to dance like a captured maiden, twisting and turning, dashing herself against the clear walls of her prison as she fought to escape.

"Shall we set her free?" he asked, a grin on his face.

"How do we prime it?" she asked, her voice still hushed with awe.

He didn't understand her words, but it didn't matter. "We set her free," he answered. Then he leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on Jane's lips. He stayed there, letting the heat of her breath skate along his skin while he casually tossed the crystal globe high over his shoulder.

"Run," he said into her mouth.

Then, without waiting for her reaction, he grabbed her arm and started down the corridor for the storeroom. Within seconds he heard and felt the explosion. It ripped through the foundation of the building, making Jane stumble as the vibration carried through the floor.

He hauled her up without breaking his stride. Already the heat was like a rabid dog on his back. They had no time to waste.

He grinned with satisfaction as they burst into the storeroom and started climbing the rope net. He could hear the screams of dying Tarveen all around him. Soon, the monsters would be running for their lives. But only after all of their children and, hopefully, many more of the adults were fried in the hells of Ginsen's exploding flame.

Steve waited for them, and Daken shoved Jane at the boy. She was already tired, the exertion and adrenaline speeding up the effects of the poison in her blood. Between Steve pulling her from above and Daken pushing at her from below, they made it up the ropes just as the fire spread to the filth on the storeroom floor. Soon the whole area would be a blazing inferno.

Once in the shaft, Steve took off, half dragging Jane behind him. Daken left her to the young mage, his attention centered on squeezing his massive bulk through the narrow shaft.

He had ample incentive to move quickly as the shaft began to heat up from the fire. Soon it would become a cook stove, slowly boiling them alive.

Finally they burst onto the wasted plain, but the journey had taken its toll. Jane was limp with exhaustion, and Daken was so slick with sweat, he slid through the shaft rather than crawled.

His first gasp of fresh air was like tasting the elixir of life. The worst was over. Now all they need do was run to the boat. All around them, Tarveen poured from openings he didn't even know were there. The insects scrambled away on all fours, rearing up to kill only when something living blocked their way.

"Come on!" he cried, swinging Jane up into his arms. Joy, adrenaline, and fear all combined to make his steps as quick and sure as his hold on her shivering body. He felt her arms wrap around his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder, her breathing labored.

They had little time. She was already very ill, and with the Tarveen scrambling around them, he couldn't spare the moments to help her.

"Just hold on, beloved. Hold on until we get to the boat, then my father can do the rest."

As he rounded the corner that should have given him his first view of the ship, he skidded to a stop. The boat was on fire. His people were huddled together, cringing against the glare of the sun and cowering beneath the twin threat of the Tarveen from behind and King Borit's army ahead. Even the twenty men from Toedo were unhorsed and their weapons taken away.

With grim determination, Daken started forward again, quickly closing the distance to his people. He spotted Tev caring for the most ill, and he pressed Jane into his care. Daken didn't say a word of farewell, but he trailed his fingers across her cheeks in one last caress. Then he joined his father in front of King Borit.

"What game are you playing, Borit?"

"No game, Little Daken," sneered Borit from his superior height on top of his horse. "Just an opportunity."

"You've been banished by the Elven Lord. You have no right to be on our land or anywhere near here. I suggest you take your men and depart now before the Oracle and I take matters into our own hands."

"The Oracle?" He quickly scanned the crowd. "Ah yes, I see you brought the little bitch along with you. How convenient. Although she hardly seems in good enough shape to appreciate my moment of triumph."

Daken turned away from Borit and his small army, pitching his voice to a cold dismissal. "Go away, Borit. We have no time for you today."

Borit's cackle sent icy darts of fear into Daken's gut. "Ah yes, you're busy with the Tarveen, aren't you? By all means, don't let us stop you."

Daken didn't respond, but his father did, his voice older and weaker, but still forceful and very threatening. "Then let us pass."

Borit sighed with mock regret. "I'm sorry. I can't do that. You see, this is my land now. Or at least it will be after the Tarveen finish with you."