Crystal Moon (16 page)

and lifted her gaze to his.

“You dare too much, woman. Trust you! Why?” He leaned

over her, and his body’s heat melted the chill of the room.

Warm and solid, he stirred more than fear in her. Unfamiliar

feelings quickened inside her. Though he didn’t touch her, for a

heartbeat she felt a thread of connection between them, and

his glare softened into confusion.

“Since I’ve been here have I done anything to harm you or

your people?” The thread snapped, and his gaze hardened. He

didn’t respond and her hopes faltered, but she pressed on. “I

cannot help the blood that flows in my veins, but I am not my

father. His crimes are not mine. Can you not see me for who I

am?”

“Who are you?” Loud and harsh with restrained anguish,

he growled the question at her. His fingers curled around her

shoulders, and he pulled her against him.

Heat and longing jolted through her, nearly hiding the flicker

of his emotion that touched her. He wanted to believe her, but

refused to allow himself any weakness. She struggled to latch

onto his thoughts and feelings, to form a connection, but her

body’s responses to his touch defeated her. All she could do

was ride the waves of sensation crashing through her. Did he

feel what she felt? Or was he immune to these physical

sensations?

“Aubin was no fool, yet you lured him to his death with

your false innocence.” With a shove he released her, and she

stumbled against the table. The self-disgust in his voice shattered

the spell his touch had created. “Such an accomplished actress

could no doubt beguile even me—if I let you. I’ll not trust you.”

She straightened, refusing to cower or admit to the pain his

words caused. Could she tell him the truth? Break her silence

and reveal her identity? Could she betray Laila to gain favor in

Kyne’s eyes?

Perhaps there was another way. “And what of your word?”

Color drained from his skin. “You shall have the men you

need.”

“And the nika root?”

“No. In this matter, Graham’s welfare means more to me

than my honor.”

“Without my skill Graham will die, if not from his injuries

then because he chooses not to live. Why can’t you put aside

your doubts about my sincerity and give me the chance to try to

save him? Search your heart. Do you truly distrust me? Or

does fear hold you back? I’ve already offered my life in

guarantee of Graham’s, what more do you wish for? Tell me

and it’s yours,” she pleaded.

“Return to your patient.”

“And the nika?”

“No.” Hard and implacable, Kyne’s expression killed

Sianna’s hope. Still, she argued.

“But....”

“Go now before I do something you’ll regret.”

***

Stubborn man. Like a thrust of his crystal blade deep within

Sianna’s heart, Kyne’s lack of trust hurt. Couldn’t he see beyond

her birth? No. Blinded by hatred and ignorance, he would

hesitate until Graham’s life was forfeited. She refused to allow

that to happen. Not while the solution lay within her grasp.

She slipped out the chamber door and down the stairs, intent

on her goal. No one took note of her passage as she made her

way toward the wagons in the courtyard. Though subdued

because of Graham’s injury, an air of celebration hovered in

the castle. The loaded caravan would provide for all throughout

the coming winter. Under the direction of the castle steward,

people unloaded and stored away the various goods—food, cloth,

house and farm implements, and weapons. Sianna shuddered

at the thought of future battles and injured men.

A smaller wagon filled with medicines stood to one side.

Kyne had ordered the nika destroyed, but she knew the steward

needed to sort through the contents of the wagon before doing

so. For now the wagon sat abandoned.

The nika’s distinctively sweet aroma guided her to its

location. Package after package of pressed blossoms filled the

air around the wagon with a heady scent, intoxicating in itself,

enough nika to addict everyone within the castle. Kyne was

right to destroy these packages of future misery. Darting a look

over her shoulder, she prayed there was some root, and dug

deeper into the wagon.

A smell similar to the nika blossom, though moist, pungent

and somehow cleaner, wafted under her nose. With eager fingers

she grabbed and tore open the lumpy bag. Gnarled and dirt-

crusted, the size of her clenched fist, a dark purple root with

pale pink flesh rewarded her effort.

Shoving the root into her pocket, she glanced around. No

one seemed to have noticed her. Fear battled with satisfaction.

Satisfaction won. She would deal with Kyne’s anger later. For

now, she hurried to the herb room to begin her preparations.

Graham had no time to spare.

***

Questions and doubts chased through Kyne’s mind, but no

answers.

What more do you want from me? Sianna’s words lingered.

What could he take without condemning his ka to

damnation? Her body? Her heart? Her ka? Despite the

evidence, he fought against giving this daughter of DiSanti his

trust.

What was this strange connection he felt whenever he was

near to her? Was it just lust? He doubted it. At eight and twenty

annum, he was no boy to be swayed by a desirable body and

honeyed words—though few of Sianna’s words were sweet.

Her innocence had to be false, a chimera sent to tempt him to

destruction.

Yet how earnest she sounded as she argued her case, and

her words held more truth than not. Since her arrival at the

castle, she’d done nothing but good for his people. Order now

reigned where before chaos held sway. Hot, tasty meals

appeared at regular intervals. Clean, scented rushes covered

the hard stone floors. People went about their tasks with smiles,

and hope filled the air. All these things he knew had been

accomplished through Sianna’s efforts. Only the question of

why haunted him. Did she seek to gain their trust to betray

them? Or was she as she seemed, another victim of her father’s

ambition and greed?

The decision rested heavily on Kyne’s heart and shoulders.

If he withheld his trust, would Graham die? Despite her bold

claims, no man could survive injuries such as Graham’s. If nika

could ease Graham’s passage to eternity, what right did he have

to deny him? What would he lose that was not already lost?

Was his honor worth Graham’s suffering?

***

Shoulders and hips colliding, Kyne, Sianna and two men

crowded into the tiny chamber. Kyne looked at Graham’s

colorless, pain-racked face and felt the blood drain from his

own. The smell of blood, sweat, and pending death hung in the

room’s still, warm air. Could he stay and watch his friend suffer

and die? Why did he allow this woman, this witch, to torment

them with false hope?

“Position yourselves one on each side of Graham’s hips,”

she directed the two men. Chosen for their strength and steady

nerves, the men showed no emotion as they followed her orders.

“Rul Cathor, would you stand at his head?”

Brisk and efficient, her tone brooked no refusal. He moved

to Graham’s head. Sweat drenched Graham’s body and

plastered his hair to his skull like an obscene death cap.

Sianna stepped to Graham’s side, and her shoulder brushed

against Kyne’s. Clean and fresh as the mountain air, her scent

filled his nose. His body grew taut and hard. He jerked away.

She gave him a curious glance then leaned over the bed

and laid her palm against Graham’s forehead.

“Graham? Can you hear me?”

Graham’s eyes flickered open. Dull with pain, his gaze

fastened on her. “Yes,” his voice cracked.

“I have something to lessen your pain. Drink.” Lifting

Graham’s head with one hand, she held a cup to his lips.

A familiar odor banished her scent from Kyne’s nostrils.

“What are you giving him?”

“Nika root.” Her soft words reached no further than his

ears.

He grabbed her wrist. “You dare defy me?”

She flinched at the pressure of his fingers, but met his gaze

boldly. “For the good of my patient I dare much. Will you stop

me?”

From the connection of their flesh, her emotions flowed

into him. Her wave of love for Graham washed away Kyne’s

rage. Whoever this woman was he knew she wouldn’t hurt

Graham. Another feeling lurked just out of range of his senses,

but fear of what he might find kept him from searching. He

dropped her wrist.

“No, I’ll not stop you. But be warned you’ll pay dearly for

betrayal.”

Hurt darkened her eyes. She nodded and turned her attention

to Graham.

“Drink,” she urged.

Graham drank and grimaced. “Bitter,” he complained.

Kyne watched as Graham’s eyelids drooped, and his

features lost their contortion of pain.

“Graham?” Sianna questioned.

“Hmmm....” he murmured.

“I don’t want to put you completely out while I set your

bones. If I do I’m afraid you may not awaken again. Can you

stand the pain?”

“Have I a choice?”

“There are always choices. With life comes pain,” she

answered.

Her words held a wealth of wisdom for one so young. Had

she, Kyne wondered, learned of pain at her father’s hand?

She pulled back the blanket covering Graham’s lower torso.

“It is time.”

Kyne couldn’t prevent his gasp of horror. Even the two

soldiers blanched and looked away. Pale skin stretched tight

over Graham’s swollen, twisted limbs, while white bone flecked

with rusty red pierced through mangled flesh.

“Be strong, Graham.” Cupping his face in her hands, Sianna

leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. Then she

straightened and squeezed past Kyne to stand at the foot of the

bed.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her question for all, but her

gaze rested on Kyne. Four heads nodded. With both hands she

gripped one of Graham’s legs. Her slender fingers barely circled

his ankle. “Hold him steady.”

Kyne braced himself and pressed Graham’s upper body

firmly against the bed. The other men held Graham’s hips in

place.

Sianna lifted Graham’s leg and gave a quick twist and pull.

Graham stiffened and gave a choked cry, but didn’t move. Bone

ground against bone, then settled into alignment. Sweat dripped

down Sianna’s flushed face. Her hair, pulled back and away

from her face, escaped its confines and clung to her damp

cheeks.

Running her hand over the leg from ankle to thigh, she

gave a relieved sigh. “One more, my friend, and the worst is

past.”

“No more,” Graham groaned.

“Give him more pain killer,” Kyne said.

She shook her head. All color vanished from her face. “I

dare not.”

Anger at his friend’s suffering made Kyne harsh. Honor

be damned. He would eat nika himself to spare Graham. “Do

you take pleasure in his pain? He cannot stand more.”

“He must.”

“I will,” Graham gasped between clenched teeth. “Do

it...now....”

“Kyne, come here. You,” Sianna directed one of the men,

“take Kyne’s place.”

Kyne stood at Graham’s feet, his hip pressed against

Sianna’s. Pale as a crystal moon, she swayed into him.

Exhaustion swamped him. His? Or hers? He wasn’t sure.

“Grip his leg here and here.” She placed his hands on

Graham’s twisted and shattered limb. Against his battle-scarred

hands, her slim, white fingers looked fragile.

In contrast to her icy touch, the heat of Graham’s flesh

burned his palms.

“When I tell you, push the bone back into place and hold it

while I stitch the wound closed. You men keep him from

thrashing.”

At her signal, Kyne did as directed.

Pain and fear not his own jolted through Kyne. Instinctively

he tried to pull away, but he couldn’t break Sianna’s grip. She

went rigid and locked his hands in place with her own.

Graham screamed, lurched upward, then his big body went

limp. With surprisingly little effort the bone slid back beneath

muscle and skin.

Exhilaration flowed through Kyne. Deep inside, something

he couldn’t name quickened, a swirl of strength beyond the

physical grew and demanded release. Like liquid sunshine, a

glow flowered around their joined hands and spilled out over

Graham.

Unwilling to believe, wanting to deny the communion

between Sianna and himself, Kyne squeezed his eyes shut and

waited. Minutes or hours passed, he lost any sense of time,

then the warmth ebbed leaving him drained and cold. He blinked

as Sianna lifted her hands from atop his. Reality reasserted

itself, and he dismissed his odd reaction as an effect of breathing

nika fumes. The drug was known to cause strange hallucinations.

Then why did confusion darken her eyes? Why did the

removal of her touch leave him feeling alone and forsaken?

Before he could question his logic, she turned her attention