Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (44 page)

“Well, on most men it would seem girly, I guess. On you, it just makes you look ready for war. Did all the warriors braid up their hair?”

“Yes. A really good braid included the back and folded over. Someone has to help with that one because it’s sewn and the tighter the better. A warrior wants his vision as clear as possible. Almost every male has hair longer then mine. I cut it when I first came back to Vegas so it’s comparatively short to theirs. Ki didn’t like it much. The women wear theirs longer. Ki’s was past her hips. I don’t know if that was preference or because she was the leading female.

Drace stood up then quickly. “That reminds me. I wanted to show you something.” He took his suit bag from the closet and unzipped it. He pulled out a long cloth bag with a string tie on top. Drace opened it and pulled out his sword and dagger. He laid them carefully on the table in front of Maggie.

She touched the stones on the hilt of both. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “This is absolutely beautiful.”

Drace pulled the blade from the scabbard, revealing the engravings.

“You said an elf made this?” she asked in almost a whisper. She studied the blade and craftsmanship.

“There are weapon makers elsewhere, but the elves are the best, especially with the added artwork,” he told her. “That is the sword that killed the blood dragon to save Ki. I have killed with that weapon both man and beasts. I am not especially proud of that fact but it is a fine weapon that has served me well.”

Drace sheathed the sword, the blade hissing into its scabbard. He then placed it back in its cloth bag and then the suit bag. He pulled a square of soft cloth from his duffel bag. There was a heavy gold ring with a pair of engraved Scottish lions that Drace slipped on the ring finger of his left hand.

“I don’t know why I didn’t wear this last night,” he mused. “I guess I just didn’t want to have to answer a lot of questions.” He gave a short laugh. “Guess that plan fell through, huh?”

Drace shook the bag a little and something else fell into his palm. He laid the blood red stone necklace on the table in front of Maggie.

“Is that a ruby?” she squeaked as she gazed at a stone that was a little bigger than a quail’s egg and tear shaped.

“No,” Drace answered, sitting back down at the table. “Nor is it man made.”

Maggie rolled it in her palm and the light in the room caused it to glisten as if wet, like blood. “What in the world is it?”

Drace smiled at her. “That’s just it. It’s not from this world. It came from Nimbus. It’s a dragon’s tear.” He told her again of the fight and how he was sent back to save his life, the dragon’s tear having been placed in his glove by Ki, for what purpose other than to remember, he didn’t know.

Drace took it from her and fastened it around his neck, lifting the front of his shirt so the stone fell inside. “Other than scars on my body there is nothing else I have from there to show you as evidence.

“I don’t need proof, Drace. I believe you. I was convinced last night after that dream you had. No one except maybe an archeologist like myself would know of Zakar. A few more of Arahtok and that is it,” Maggie stated. “Tell me the legend of Arahtok and the Lion-kin once more. If you can, try to remember every detail of Cearan’s recital. Even the hand gestures if there were any.”

“Why such interest? Are you wanting to find proof of Arahtok?” Drace asked, looking into her green eyes.

“That would be nice to have some clues on that but no, that’s not the main reason.” Maggie lay her hand on his where it lay on the table. “I’m going to find the way back. I feel in my gut it’s possible. I just need to find the key to the lock. That’s part of what I do.”

She said this with such conviction that Drace felt a flicker of hope. “If anyone can do it Maggie, it will be you.”

A room service dinner and a couple of hours later, Maggie was sure she had all the information she needed. She wanted to comb through it to look for something she might have missed.

Drace offered to take her back to her apartment, but she refused, instead insisting on flagging down a cab. She gathered up her notes and purse, and pulled on her jacket.

Drace grabbed his own coat and pulled on his boots.

“You don’t have to go down with me,” Maggie insisted.

Drace gave her a ‘try and stop me’ stare.

“Alright, already,” she grumbled, but instantly felt safer.

As she was opening the door, Drace put a hand out and closed it, preventing her exit.

“I’m leaving in the morning so there’s something I want to say before you go.” He spoke as if he wasn’t totally in control of his thoughts, but guided by who? His voice was low, almost rumbling in his chest.

Like a lover’s would be,
Maggie thought. She looked up into his eyes.

“I’m speaking true to you now. If thing were different; if there had never been Ki or Oralia or the Werre, I swear I would have found you. I would have taken your heart and your body for my own and kept them safe with me, for as long as I lived.”

Maggie watched his eyes grow dark as he had her trapped against the door. She felt the beginnings of desire and also a small degree of fear run through her. “Is that some sort of Werren phrase?” she whispered and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.

Drace watched it then looked back up. “They are my own and I vow it.”

He moved his hand from the door and pulled her against him, burying one hand into her flaming hair. Drace lowered his head and took her mouth with his. Maggie had expected violence in his kiss but he was so gently it brought tears to her eyes and her blood sang in her veins.

When Drace pulled back, she opened her eyes, tears flowing freely. He shook his head slightly as if total control had been returned to him.

“Oh Drace,” she cried and flung herself into his arms, putting her head onto his chest. She almost blurted out “I love you” but managed to stop herself in time. It was hard enough for both of them as it was.

Drace let her cry for a moment and when she got her self together, he found her a tissue then they headed down to find her a cab.

Drace stepped out to the curb and gave a piercing whistle to hail a passing taxi, which stopped for him. He gave Maggie one last hug and then a quick kiss, less familiar this time. “Take care Maggie. I hope to hear from you soon.”

“I will,” she replied, sniffing. “Drive home safe, okay?”

Drace nodded and watched her climb in. He gave the cab driver a few bills and Maggie’s address.

The cab started to move when she stopped the driver and rolled down her window. “Drace!” she called and he turned towards her. “What you said upstairs? You wouldn’t have had to
take
anything because I would have given all that to you freely.”

“I know, Mag, I know.”

A breeze caught at his hair and with his solemn expression, Maggie was reminded once more of how out of place he looked.

She spoke a word to the driver and he pulled away.

Drace stood there watching her until the cab was out of sight.

DRACE SPENT THE NEXT WEEK working from before sunup to sunset, trying for exhaustion so he wouldn’t lay awake thinking of all the what-ifs:
What if I can go back? Then when? What if I can’t? What if I had not stopped that night with Maggie? Could I have lived with myself if I had ravished her?
To have touched her as he had, and to feel what he felt for her, left him dealing with a huge amount of guilt.

His appetite was better and he had not had a nightmare since that night at Maggie’s.
Had she managed to help me exorcize Zakar from my mind?
he wondered.

Cerise had been excited to know that Maggie was on the search. He hadn’t told her any of the more intimate details. She probably would not condemn him, but somehow he felt what had happened between Maggie and himself should stay that way. There was some connection there that had surprised the hell out of him.

That was another ‘what if‘.
What if I had met her first? Would my life be any saner or would I have been taken from Maggie and still thrust into Ki’s world?

He was underneath, replacing a u-joint in the drive shaft. It was raining so Drace had parked the truck in the barn aisle to work. He dug his heels into the floor to squeeze himself further under the vehicle to get a better angle to turn his wrench.

Lightning cracked close by and the following boom of thunder drowned out his curse when he jumped and his wrench slipped, smashing his knuckles. When he jerked his hand, he touched the droplight. The light went out with a pop, leaving him in shadow.

“Ahh, son of a bitch,” he yelped, jerking again involuntary when the hot bulb burned his arm, and then he smacked his forehead hard enough to see stars.

Drace scooted out from under the truck and rolled up into a sitting position, putting the heels of both hands on his forehead. “Damn it all to hell!” he swore and if he had known where the wrench had fallen, he would have thrown it in a fit of temper.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he muttered and flopped backwards to lay eyes closed, in the aisle, his hands still over his forehead.

A horse neighed loudly from down the aisle and Drace recognized Pride’s call. With the rain beating hard against the barn roof, he didn’t hear the running footsteps until they came through the open barn door.

Drace moved his hands and opened one eye, expecting to see Cerise back early from the movie she had gone to see.

“Good God, Drace, what did you do?” came a low, husky voice a second before Maggie’s face popped into his sight.

Cold rain caught in the folds of her raincoat dripped onto Drace’s face when she dropped to her knees and leaned over him.

“Ahhh!” Drace yelled again. “That’s cold!” He struggled back into a sitting position, wiping his face. “Damn, it
is
you, Maggie,” he said, and then answered her question. “I’m trying to put a u-joint in my truck with my head.”

“It would seem you weren’t very successful,” Maggie laughed. “Let me see.” She gently pushed his hair back. “Hmm, that’s gotta smart,” she observed. Drace had a dirty scrape on his forehead that slowly oozed blood and was already swelling. “You have a lovely goose egg there. You ought to clean that up.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got to get this finished so I can move the truck. “What are you doing her, Maggie? It’s crappy weather to just be in the neighborhood,” he asked, but his tone was affectionate.

“Finish the truck and then I’ll tell you while I administer first aid,” she suggested, giving him a secretive grin.

“Okay, but first you have to help me find my wrench.”

Drace inhaled sharply at the sting of the alcohol as Maggie cleaned the scrape on his forehead.

“Big baby,” Maggie said unsympathetically as she worked. “I think part of the truck is in this boo boo.”

“Boo boo?” Drace cried out, trying to sit stoically, but it felt like she was scrubbing with a Brillo pad. “I haven’t had a boo boo since I was four.” He winced at her next swipe. “Oww!”

“See, I told you—you big baby. Sit still will ya? There’s a piece of dirt or oil or something still in it,” Maggie ordered him, armed with a fresh alcohol pad. She eagerly attacked the offending foreign object.

“It’s probably my brain showing. God knows you’ve scrubbed hard enough to get to it,” Drace groused, slouching down in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

Maggie gave a husky chuckle. “Don’t pout,” she said, looking through his first aid kit. “Where are your Band-Aids?”

I don’t need a Band-Aid. Just smear some of that antibiotic gunk on it and quit torturing me.”
Good thing she doesn’t know about the scrape on my hand or the burn on my arm. She’d probably have it in a sling.

Since he was getting cranky she distracted him by asking. “You wouldn’t happen to have any beer in the fridge, would you?”

“Yeah, help yourself,” Drace answered, closing up the kit.

Maggie came back with one for him as well. She sat down across the table from him and gave him a long stare.

Drace raised an eyebrow. “What? Contemplating staples?”

Maggie laughed then. “No, your wounded head is safe from me now.” She took a swallow of her beer and then set the bottle on the table. “I just wanted to study you before you leave.”

Drace gave her a puzzled look for a second and then realized what she had said. An understanding smile broke out on his face, dazzling her.

“You found it? You found the answer to going back?”

Tears threatened Maggie at the hope in his voice. “I’m positive that I have. It turned out to be a simple answer really.”

Drace leaned forward. “Well?”

“Prayer,” Maggie stated.

“Christ, Maggie! Don’t you think I’ve already tried that?” Drace slumped back, the hope draining from him.

“Yes, I know you did, but first of all, you prayed to the wrong god, and secondly, the key is a
woman’s
prayer. That’s why I came in person to tell you this,” she explained. “You need Cerise and I for this to work. The legend of the Lion kin and Arahtok. Seven days.”

Drace straightened up and ran a hand through his hair, then covered his mouth with it, thoughtful. “I’ll be damned! It was right there all along. We missed it because we were looking for something much more complicated.” He moved his hand and pointed at her. “You have a plan, don’t you? I can see it all over your face.”

“Of course,” Maggie confirmed with a grin then she noticed his hand. “What did you do to your hand? Let me see,” she ordered, reaching once more for the first aid kit.

“Oh crap!” Drace grumbled, and resigned his ‘boo boos’ to her tender care.

Thirty minutes later, his wounds tended, Drace and Maggie sat at the kitchen table, drinking a second beer and talking of her findings.

It was late afternoon and the rain had a momentary lull. Drace invited Maggie to go with him to the barn to feed the horses.

Maggie pulled on her raincoat as Drace pulled his slouch brim hat onto his head after donning a tan barn coat. He winced as the front of his hat came down over the knot on his forehead.

Once at the barn, Drace introduced Maggie to each of the horses as he fed them. She volunteered to refill water buckets while he threw hay into hayracks. Afterwards, they spent a few companionable moments before heading up to Drace’s house.

Cerise’s big grey gelding came over to investigate and blew a gentle horsy snort against Maggie’s cheek.

“Mitch likes you,” Drace observed, leaning against the stall front. He noticed that Maggie did not offer to touch the horse in return.

“He’s very pretty and
huge,”
Maggie stated, taking a timid step back.

“Do you ride?” Drace asked, but he already knew the answer.

“No, honestly I’m afraid of horses. They’re big and I’m not,” Maggie admitted.

When Mitch came back, wisps of hay sticking from his mouth as he chewed, Maggie put out a hand and touched him softly on his nose.

Mitch looked at her with big brown eyes and pricked ears. “He’s sweet,” Maggie said and felt a twinge of disappointment when the grey moved back to his hay.

Maggie moved after Drace as he went to the doors and turned off the lights. It wasn’t quite dark outside but it was inside the barn.

Drace stood next to her. “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I come down here and just listen. It’s soothing in a way.” He went quiet then and let her listen for herself.

Maggie heard gentle rustling as each horse moved around its stall, or munched hay, the soft blowing of one when hay tickled its nose. The rain had started falling again, and sounded lightly against the metal of the barn’s roof. She could see how someone like Drace could take comfort in it.

Drace broke the spell by taking her hand in his. “Come on. The rain may get heavy again. Let’s get back to the house.

“Were you planning on staying tonight or heading back to D.C.?” Drace asked her on the way up the slight hill.

“I was going to get a hotel room in Charlottesville.”

“Stay here tonight,” he offered and felt her break stride a bit.

“And the sleeping arrangements would be?’ she asked.

“I have a guest room,” he informed as they stopped by her car.

“I’ll try not to look too disappointed,” Maggie said, trying to keep her voice light.

“Would it make it up to you any if I offered to make dinner?”

“And dessert?”

Drace thought for a second. “All I have are some chocolate chip cookies Cerise baked and brought over yesterday.”

“Sold!” Maggie exclaimed. She fetched her overnight bag from her car.

They had just gotten onto the porch when the heavens opened up again and it began to pour. Drace showed Maggie to the guest room and gave her directions to the bathroom.

Maggie came into the kitchen and saw him slicing chicken breasts into thin strips and placing them into a skillet.

“I knew you were too good to be true,” she said and moved and stood next to him at the stove.

He glanced at her as he added seasoning to the chicken. “How do
you figure?”

Maggie crossed her arms over her ample breasts. “Let me ask you something.”

Drace sniffed delicately over his skillet. “Shoot.”

“Do you have someone come in to clean for you?” she asked him.

Drace straightened to look at her. “Of course not,” he said, obviously offended.

“That’s what I figured. This is your turf, a sanctuary. I’ve never met a man who cooks, cleans, and is so self-sufficient. This is not my idea of the typical bachelor pad.”

Drace moved over to the fridge and pulled out a package of stir-fry vegetables. “Look, I’m not cutting these up all by myself. Precut,” he said, shaking the bag. “I’m not all that domestic. Besides,” he added as he carefully added the vegetables to the skillet. “That’s rather sexiest don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” Maggie admitted, leaning in to take a sniff herself. “Mmm, that smells good. Can I help?”

Drace pointed over to the counter towards a breadbox. “I think there’s some bread in there. Butter’s in the fridge.”