Alliance Forged (39 page)

Kymora spent time before dinner talking to the children and other adults while Varian spoke to Lisella and the scouts. Even half a room away, she could sense his apprehension, but as the minutes passed, it eased to a much healthier level.

“Of all the people here, I never thought to see my sister so somber. If you’re not careful, the light will change and that expression will freeze on your face.”

The childhood superstition drew the corners of her mouth upward. “Only you believed in that tale as child, brother mine,” she replied.

A soft puff of air rushed across her face, carrying with it a light masculine odor with a hint of
Vaa’jahn
. Kalan’s warm body brushed against her side as he joined her on the bench running the length of the wall. He pressed a cool mug into her hand.

“
Cheva
-juice,” he told her, then, keeping his voice low, “Jole told me what happened. How is Varian?”

“Better.” Kymora sighed. “There are a few things I need to tell you, Kalan.”

As concisely as possible, she filled him in on what she and Lisella had discovered. The exact details of how she’d helped Varian she kept to herself though.

“So, integrating the
Na’Chi
is now paramount,” he mused, then, “I presume Varian’s informing his scouts of just what you’ve revealed to me?”

“Yes. He knows they can’t afford to ignore this problem.”

Her brother grunted. “Varian’s a strong leader. Resourceful and flexible when he needs to be.” His tone lightened and a finger teased the skin low on the side of her neck. “So, is this bite mark a part of the solution and not the result of a battle rush attack?”

Her blood heated and rushed to her cheeks. “What are you talking about?” Her hand collided with his as she tried to feel it.

“There’s a mark there, Kym. I swear.” His low chuckle was accompanied by a hug. “I’m just glad I don’t have to call on Varian to account for it.”

Kymora aimed a swift elbow into his ribs. A soft “Oof” was accompanied by more chuckling.

“Don’t you dare say anything to him,” she hissed, succumbing to a reluctant smile.

“I wouldn’t dream of interfering, unlike someone I know who decided to give her two chits’ worth of advice when Annika and I were—”

“Kalan, I love him.” Her brother fell silent, his aura rippling with surprise. “So, there’s no need for you to dispense any advice.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “And what about Varian?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I doubt with everything that’s happened he’s even considered what our relationship means to him.”

Kalan’s hair brushed her cheek as he nodded. “
Lady
willing, you’ll
both find a way to deal with this.” His comment jerked her upright in her seat. “Kymora? What’s wrong?”

“It was only the start of my Fourth Journey,” she murmured. Excitement fluttered in her stomach. “Oh,
Mother of Light
, I’ve been so blind!” She sipped her drink, needing it for a suddenly dry throat. “Kalan, do you remember my first account of the
Lady’s
instructions to us all concerning the
Na’Chi
?”

“
She
warned us that there would be opposition, but
She
welcomed them as
Her
children.”

“Yes, but
She
also said, ‘My
children must survive
.’” She shook her head. “I assumed she meant just the
Na’Chi
. What if I’ve interpreted that wrong? Now that we know the
Na’Reish
once lived peacefully with us, and that our three races share common blood, what if she was referring to all of us?”

“How does this affect your Fourth Journey?”

“
She
foretold it’d begin with the arrival of the
Na’Chi
, and it did.”

“You made the decision to live with them in their village.”

“Yes. I thought my Journey would end once we came back here.” She wet her lips. “It doesn’t.” A shiver worked its way up her back. “I sought the
Lady’s
guidance after Councilor Elamm’s little performance.
She
said something to me I didn’t want to hear.
Her
words were, ‘You serve me whether you wear the Temple Elect robes or not.’”

Kymora gripped her brother’s hand, unsurprised to find her own shaking.

“I can’t help the
Na’Chi
nor serve our people if there’s conflict over my spending time with them. I can’t serve
Her
faithfully if I ignore
Her
mandate about them.” She sucked in an unsteady breath. “I
can
give up the position of
Temple Elect
and fulfill both.”

Kalan’s aura flared with shock. “You’d resign?”

“Now isn’t the time for more instability, I know, but you know me,
Chosen
.”

Given the gravity of the situation, it seemed a little surreal to hear the sounds of children laughing, the clatter of crockery, and chairs scraping on the floor, all so familiar and reassuring in the silence that followed her announcement.

Kalan’s thumb smoothed over the knuckles of her hand. “I do know you,
Temple Elect
.” Hoarse and a little deeper than normal, his voice still remained strong. “To give up your calling for the unknown and follow
Her
will take great faith. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“
She
brought the
Na’Chi
to us. They’re meant to be with us. We need each other to survive. My future lies with them, not the Temple. Not any longer.” Kymora turned her face into his shoulder. “It scares me not knowing what lies ahead.”

His hand tightened around hers. “You can deal with fear, Kym; you’ve done it so many times already in your life. Just as long as you’re happy with this decision.”

“Anxious is a better word, but there’s now a sense of rightness to it that I haven’t felt until tonight.”

“When will you announce this?”

“Not until I’ve spoken to Varian about it.”

The evening progressed and Kymora pushed her decision to the back of her mind to enjoy the company of good friends. During dinner when Varian took her hand and laced his fingers among hers and rested them on his lap, her heart soared. His positive action just reinforced the decision she’d made. While no one commented, she sensed some surprise but mostly good will.

As conversation and the children’s energy ran down, many began to call it a night.

“I’d better gather the children and take them back to the orphanage,” Lisella stated. A chorus of protests came from those still awake.

Seated beside her at the table, Varian spoke up. “I’ll help you.”

“No need, it’s only a short walk.”

Kymora listened to the tired chatter of a dozen children as they all headed down the corridor with Lisella.

Varian leaned in to her shoulder. “Do I need to accompany you back to your room?”

An innocent enough question, but what she sensed from his aura was anything but. Kymora ducked her head as heat flushed her cheeks. After a few farewells, she allowed him to help her from her chair and waited until they’d reached the archway to the corridor before replying.

“I think I’d rather accompany you to yours. It’s closer.”

His harsh indrawn breath and the way his arm tensed beneath her hand made her smile, particularly when he said nothing but guided her right instead of left, and along the corridor leading to his room.

“V
ARIAN!” A muffled voice and a loud knocking woke Varian.

He propped himself up on one elbow on the bed. Darkness still filled the room, and a quick glance toward the window showed no light coming through the crack in the shutters.

The warm body curled up beside him underneath the blanket stirred. Kymora. The light scent of spiced honey mixed with the heavier scent of musk lingering in the air. A stimulating combination that reignited all of his senses, the most vivid being the memory of making love to her as soon as they’d reached his room after the dinner.

He leaned down to kiss her. She mumbled incoherently.

“Someone’s knocking on my door,” he murmured, just as more rapping on wood echoed through his apartment.

“Again?” Her disgruntled tone brought a smile to his lips “Maybe we should have gone to my room.”

Perhaps they should have. The cooler air prickled his skin as he pulled on his breeches. Zaune stood in the doorway of his apartment,
half dressed like himself. The young scout’s head snapped up. The flecks in his eyes were black and his scent bore the sharp, caustic odor of fury. Varian frowned.

“You need to get to the hospice.” The low growl in Zaune’s voice sent ice crawling across the back of his scalp. “Lisella’s been attacked.”

He sucked in a jagged breath. “I’ll get Kymora.”

Kalan and Candra were waiting in the hospice vestibule. The human leader’s tight, grim expression and Candra’s drawn features escalated his fear.

“Where is she?” His pulse tripped in his veins.

Kymora’s hand tightened on his arm in quiet support.

“Inside with Annika.” Candra’s scent was masked by the heavy odor of
Vaa’jahn
. She caught his arm as he headed for the curtained doorway. “Varian, there’s no easy way to tell you this. Lisella was raped and beaten on her way back from the orphanage.”

Beside him, Kymora gasped; her fingers dug into his arm. A shudder ripped through him. The air in the room suddenly seemed to disappear, and his thoughts narrowed down to the woman lying in a hospice bed beyond the curtain.

Her face appeared in his mind, her slender features softened by dark wavy hair, with the gentle smile he’d seen only hours ago. The woman he’d spent a lifetime with, sharing a thousand conversations, listening to her temper a hundred arguments and sooth as many hurt feelings. The gentlest soul among the
Na’Chi
.

The light of his people.

Sister of his heart.

“I’d better gather the children and take them back to the orphanage.”
Lisella’s voice and the chorus of protests from the children she cared for echoed in his head.

“I’ll help you.”

“No need, it’s only a short walk.”

He flinched at the memory of the relief he’d felt when she’d declined
his offer. Relief because he’d been more concerned with making love with Kymora than helping someone he’d sworn to protect.

Nausea rolled heavily in his gut. She’d suffered because of his complacency. Anger fireballed into fury. He sought the darkness within.

It stirred.

“Varian!” Kymora’s voice came from a great distance. The darkness howled and writhed against her soft tether. Every instinct screamed for him to find whoever had hurt Lisella and tear them apart. “Varian, we need you.”

He blinked, the motion a deliberate one, a slow movement of lid meeting lid. He lifted his head, and Kymora’s anxious face snapped into focus. Her hands pressed against his chest. Her lips parted on a gasp, as if she were sensing something, then her arms wrapped around his waist tight.

“Oh, thank the
Mother of Light
.”

He glanced down at the hands gripping his arms, one on either side. Candra and Kalan.

“Breathe deep, warrior,” the elderly healer advised. “Lisella needs you, not your anger.”

“Who was it?” His gravel-throated question made all three humans wince.

“Lisella shared some details before Candra gave her an herbal sedative.” White lines of tension etched Kalan’s eyes. “They identified themselves as rebels. City folk, not Light Blades.”

“How many?”

“Five.”

Crimson tinged the edges of everything in the vestibule. Varian curled his fingers into fists. He
wanted
their blood on his hands. Kymora stroked his chest, her hands gentle. Her action centered him. He sucked in a deep breath, every muscle shaking.

“We’ll start searching for them tonight,” Kalan promised, his jaw flexing. “The gates to the city have already been closed. There hasn’t
been enough time since the attack for them to flee.” The grip on his arm tightened. “I was on my way out to wake the barracks to get the search underway, but I wanted to wait until you arrived.”

Varian swallowed hard. “Take Zaune with you; he’s one of our best trackers.” The warrior gave a brusque nod. “Tell him…” And here he had to pause as the demand for retribution clawed at his innards like a predator savaging its prey. His gaze locked with the human’s, steady and fierce. “Tell Zaune I want the rebels brought back alive.”

Surprise swirled in the depths of the warrior’s gaze. “I was expecting you’d demand blood-justice.”

“I’d be delighted to see them all dead,
Chosen
,” he growled. “But that decision will be Lisella’s.” He waited for Kalan to nod in agreement before turning his gaze on Candra. He tried to soften his tone. “Can I see her?”

The woman nodded. “For a short time.” Her gaze turned apologetic. “I’m sorry, Kymora, but he has to go in alone.”

“I’ll wait for you here.” She released him after a final hug.

Half a dozen oil lanterns dimly lit the main hospice hall. A handful of patients slept in the beds closest to the vestibule. Candra led him to the curtained-off area where Kalan had spent a week healing. Cast on the fabric, a distorted shadow of a woman leaned over a bed, then seated herself.

“Annika’s healed most of Lisella’s injuries, but she’ll be groggy from the broth I gave her to help her rest,” the woman murmured. She squeezed his hand tight. “Remember, she needs your empathy, not your anger.”

As he pushed through into the curtained area, Annika rose from her seat next to Lisella’s bed. On the way out, she touched his arm in mute support. He took her place.

His breath shuddered into his lungs. Raw bruises mottled one side of Lisella’s face and neck, and newly healed cuts formed a latticework
of red marks on her lips, her brow, and her jaw. She’d have fought, and fought hard, but even her
Na’Chi
strength hadn’t helped against so many attackers.

His heart clenched tight, knowing exactly what sort of blows would have caused the sort of damage he was seeing and wished he didn’t. He was grateful the blanket hid the rest of her body. The urge to howl and scream and tear something apart quaked inside him, his control blade thin.