Crystal Fire (20 page)

Brace crawled back to help Rodac. The snow-packed overhang shuddered again. "The ledge is weakening," he shouted down to the alien. "I'll get back and you climb up as fast as you can. It won't hold either of us much longer."

He returned to Marissa and took her into his arms. As he anxiously watched the ledge for Rodac to appear, Brace tried to rub some warmth into Marissa's arms and legs. At last a large, leathery hand reached over the ledge, grasping about for the rope.

Relief flooded Brace. Rodac was almost to safety.

Just as Rodac tried to swing a leg up over it, the ledge disintegrated. Rodac's grip on the rope slipped and he reared backward. The ledge fell away.

"Rodac!"

Releasing Marissa, Brace scrambled as close to the newly formed ledge as he dared and peered over. The empty rope swayed wildly below, its end disappearing in a thick blanket of snow.

"Rodac!" Brace cried, his anguished voice snatched away by the howling storm. "Rodac, answer me!"

Suddenly the wind died. Brace strained for any sound. There was none. The world that surrounded him was cold, white, and deathly silent.

The wind quickened, rising to a fearful wail. Thick gusts of snow swirled around Brace, engulfing him in a cover of white. The sky darkened as the distant sun slid behind the mountains. The nocte was fast approaching. Soon, he wouldn't be able to find his way.

Time was of the essence. He and Marissa would surely freeze to death if they spent an unprotected nocte out in the wind and cold. Brace had two choiceseither go down the rope and make a quick search for Rodac, or leave him behind and concentrate his efforts on getting Marissa up to the hut. Two choices, and no matter which he decided, it virtually guaranteed someone's death.

Brace's fists clenched in impotent rage. Gods, how could he make such a choice? It was so unfair, so cruel! But choose he must.

With a vicious curse, he edged back and climbed to his feet. If he hadn't been injured by the fall, Rodac's chances of survival were far better than Marissa's. Brace
had
to get her out of this wind and warm her, or she would surely die. The trek up to the little hut was treacherous and exhausting. Even with Marissa slung over his shoulder, having both hands free did little to ease Brace's way. He slid and slipped with nearly every step, tearing through the cloth of his breeches to gash the half-frozen flesh of his legs until he ceased to care. After a time, the center of Brace's universe narrowed to the sight of the hut and the automatic forward movement of his legs.

Blessedly, the little dwelling was unlocked. Brace staggered in, shoved the door closed, then sank to his knees. The sudden absence of wind made the interior seem warm in comparison. He laid Marissa down and slumped beside her, relief draining his last reserves of strength. For a long while Brace remained there, until reality prodded him to action. He had to get Marissa warmed.

Brace crawled to his knees and glanced around. As the abbot had said, the hut was indeed well stocked for mountain travelers. There was a large pile of firewood stacked beside the hearth, not to mention a crude wooden table and two benches that could also be used for fuel if the need arose. A small bed, laden with quilts, sat against the far wall. Across the room was a pantry filled with freeze-dried food and cooking and eating utensils. With a little melted snow and the heat of a fire, it would be a simple enough task to prepare a meal.

Brace uttered a silent prayer of gratitude, then made his way to the pile of wood and gathered an armload for the fireplace. His own circulation began to returnsharp, piercing little needles of agony. He bit back a groan at the excruciating pain and concentrated all his efforts on the task at hand.

With the aid of a tinder box he found on the mantel, Brace soon had a small flame going. He fed it for a short while, coaxing it to a more sturdy fire before turning to the task of caring for Marissa.

After pulling her as close to the fire's warmth as he dared, he stumbled over to the bed on pain-stiffened legs and grabbed the quilts. Dragging them back, Brace proceeded to divest Marissa of her ice-coated clothes and wrap her in the quilts. He then stripped off his own garments and crawled into the quilts with her. Marissa's smooth-skinned young body was cold and limp against his own cool flesh, but Brace knew he'd warm quickly enough to share his own body heat with her.

The soft mounds of her breasts with their chill-hardened nipples pressed against him, and her downy woman's mound brushed his thigh. Brace grimaced wryly. He finally had Marissa where he wanted her, and could do nothing about it. And when she wakened and discovered their lack of clothing, Brace imagined he'd quickly experience the fullest extent of her wrath.

But he wouldn't mind, if only she were unharmed and well. There seemed so little he could do anymore, about anything. At least Marissa's full recovery would ease a little of the pain of that realization.

Brace began to massage her body in an attempt to aid the returning circulation. As he did, he gradually uncovered Marissa to examine her for injuries. A large purpled bruise graced the left side of her forehead. The rest of her looked undamaged, but there was no way of ascertaining if she'd suffered internal injuries until she regained consciousness.

She moved in his arms and moaned. Brace tucked the quilt back up around Marissa and increased his efforts to warm her.

''Ah!" she whispered and stirred more forcefully.

Her lashes fluttered open and she gazed up at Brace. For a long moment, confusion clouded her blue-green eyes.

Then the pain of her warming limbs flooded her. "By all that is sacred!" Marissa groaned.

She bit into her lower lip and lay there, fighting against the agony until it subsided. She moved then, to snuggle close to him.

"B-Brace?" Marissa breathed. "What happened?"

"The ledge crumbled and you fell. I carried you up to the hut."

Marissa raised her head and glanced around. "We made it. Oh, thank the Crystal!"

Brace's expression darkened.

Fear shot through Marissa. "Brace, what's wrong?"

"Only the two of us made it, Marissa." She scanned the room. "Rodac. What happened to Rodac?" A note of panic threaded her voice.

"He went down to rescue you. When he tried to climb up afterwards, the ledge broke under his weight."

Her eyes widened. "Did the fall kill him?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Her fingers gouged into Brace's arms. "Didn't you go down to see?"

"It was getting dark, there was still a difficult journey to the hut, and I didn't know how badly you were injured. I made a choice, Marissa."

She rolled on her side, turning her face from him. "Curse that big smelly alien," she choked. "He didn't even like me!"

"Actually, I think he was getting to rather enjoy your little interchanges." Brace pulled her back up against him. "Are those tears I see? For a money-grubbing Simian no less?"

"And what if they are?" she sniffed. "I'm entitled to my personal sentiments, no matter what your opinions to the contrary!"

He nuzzled the damp, tangled hair that lay against her neck. It smelled like the hauntingly sweet, herbal bractea.

"And would you have wept if it had been me, rather than Rodac, lying at the bottom of that cliff?"

Marissa turned back to face him. "Perhaps." She lifted the quilt to cover her shoulders and stiffened.

"What is it, femina?"

"II'm naked a-and so are you!"

"It seemed the most expedient way to get you warm.

"Well, I'm warm now." Marissa shoved to a sitting position, clutching one of the quilts to her. "You can move away."

Brace levered to one elbow. "Marissa, I didn't do anything but warm you."

"II'm sure you didn't," she replied nervously.

She eyed the broad, hair-roughened chest, rippling abdomen, and powerful arms that lay exposed above the quilt. By the Crystal Fires, Marissa thought with a small frisson of excitement, but he was muscling up quite nicely. And then, with another frissonthis time of fearshe realized those same muscles spoke as well of his awesome strength.

But he'd never force himself upon her. Marissa knew that now, trusted him. And the fear she'd felt but a secundae ago was not for her physical, but for her emotional safety.

In his own way Brace Ardane was a dark, dangerous animal, stalking her with that virile body of his, with his hot, hungry eyes. It stirred something in Marissa, something equally primal and darkly dangerous. Something that both attracted and repelled her.

She glanced around, searching for some ex- cuse to change the subject. Her eyes alighted upon the pantry.

"I'm hungry," she announced loudly.

Brace laughed. "I could have sworn that was my line."

"Not this time." Marissa rose to her feet, swayed unsteadily for a moment, then grabbed at the mantel for support.

After a few secundae, she tucked the quilt securely about her and glanced down at him. "Are you coming?"

He eyed her slender shoulders and ivory expanse of chest exposed above the quilt. Her smooth flesh gleamed in the flickering firelight. Brace remembered how soft she'd felt against him, how her breasts had

With a superhuman effort, he shoved the stimulating thoughts aside. This wasn't the time nor the place for a tender interlude. Gods, it was torment enough how full and heavy his loins already felt! She was right to divert the subject before things got out of hand. And, now that he thought about it, he
was
starving.

Thankfully, there was dehydrated meat, which Marissa grudgingly made into a stew with several containers of dried vegetables and some seasoning. Brace watched her as she cooked over the fire, admiring the sleekly curvaceous form that even the bulky quilt couldn't hide, his ardent glance skimming the sensuous undulation of flesh over bone.

Strange, he mused, that no woman had ever seemed as beautiful or preciously dear as Mar- issa. Strange how strong the protective possessiveness flared. And how he wanted her, wanted to join bodies and share the ultimate ecstasy.

Fleetingly, Brace wondered if he weren't falling in love. He quickly quashed that as ridiculous. When it came to women, Marissa, with her sharp little tongue and warrior's aggressiveness, was hardly his type. And yet, in so many ways, she was all the woman he'd ever need.

Marissa turned at that moment, the pot of stew in her hand. At his heated look, a small frown wrinkled her brow.

"What? What's wrong now?" she asked.

Brace sighed and shook his head. "Nothing, Marissa. For all we've been through, all the hardship and sorrow we've shared, nothing could be more perfect than this momentand the simple pleasure of just being with you."

Her eyes widened. Then she squared her shoulders and strode to the table.

"You're hallucinating from hunger," Marissa stated, placing the pot on the table between them.

She dished him up a healthy serving. "Eat. You'll soon feel better."

He grinned and dug into his food, not pausing for another word until he'd polished off two platefuls of the savory stew. There, with a sigh, Brace leaned back from the table.

"You are by far the best trail cook I've ever had the pleasure of traveling with. Once we've rescued the Knowing Crystal and your sister, and taken care of Ferox, we really should team up for another quest or two. Ones with more hope of monetary gain, of course."

Marissa rolled her eyes. "Ah, yes. We'd make a wonderful team. Once we learned to agree on things."

"We agree on quite a lot already," Brace pointed out.

She arched a skeptical brow. "Oh, do we now'?"

He gazed at her for a long moment. "You know we do, Marissa."

Brace sighed. "I just regret we had to meet this way, in the midst of such terrible danger and hardship. And I'm sorry for making it even worse, with my lack of judgment in dragging you into the mountains in such bad weather. I lost Rodac and nearly lost you as well."

"You were distraught over your father's death and wanted revenge. I can understand that."

Brace lowered his head. "I'm a warrior. There's no place for the luxury of emotion when one goes to battle. Not if one wishes to survive, at any rate."

He lifted pain-glazed eyes to her. "I'm afraid, Marissa. There's something wrong with me, something gnawing at my insides, and I don't know what to do about it."

Marissa rose and walked around to sit beside him on the bench, taking his large, callused hand in hers. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you, Brace. Both Alia and Teran said this quest required both of us for success. The longer we're on this mission, the more convinced I am of the truth of their words."

"And can you rescue me from madness?" he demanded bitterly.

Her grip tightened. "You're not going mad, Brace."

"Aren't I? My father died of his madness, and I told you before that I nearly went insane while in prison. I fear I've inherited his weakness, a weakness the Knowing Crystal sensed. Perhaps it's just a matter of time before the stone turns against me as well."

"Any man would doubt his sanity after what you've been through. And this madness you fear in yourself could very well be just the influence of the Knowing Crystal. Your father claimed as much himself. That the Crystal might turn on you and drive you insane if you knew the secret. And now you know."

"Know what?" He gave a scornful laugh. "That the stone is vulnerable, and that some special pools on Moraca are tied into that? I hardly think I'm much threat to the Knowing Crystal with that little tidbit of information. At least not enough for it to turn on me."

He paused, frowning.

"What is it, Brace?" Marissa asked. "What's wrong?"

"I suddenly remembered Alia's words, when she told us of the vision of the monastery at Exsul. At the time, it seemed the vision must have come from the Knowing Crystal, at the moment of its theft. Almost as if the stone were trying to lead us to where Ferox was heading next, to aid us in its rescue. But now, now I'm not so sure . . ."

"Sure of what?"

Brace's gaze swung to meet hers. "Why would the Knowing Crystal willingly reveal the location of my father, a man who knew its terrible secret? It's not logical."