Salome at Sunrise (25 page)

“Be at peace, my beloved. I shall always love you.”

Lilac smoke swirled around her. The shock on his face blurred beneath her tears as her essence succumbed to the harmonies of her home realm. Liquid vibrations of music and light converged in her spirit, tingling her human marrow, slowing her pulse. Tears slipped down cheeks fading to nothing. A sweet fragrance wrapped around her, an orchard at full peak, full of blooms and sun-ripened fruit. Through a waterfall of the palest violet, Bryton’s fierce stare locked with hers. Waves of stunned misery poured from him. His aura shone a blinding pink—love.

Unseen hands cradled her, lifting her into another time and space. First, she lost the sense of smell, the rich minerals of blood and stone fading away. Touch numbed until her skin didn’t feel the silken brush of her gown, her arms losing the sun’s warmth. Vision grew hazy and hearing dimmed to everything but the melody of magic and the sorrow in her soul. Not even the powers of color and light could strip her love away and it remained. A weeping bittersweetness filled her.

A trumpet blasted and she shivered. She used every droplet of strength to remain one more moment, to fill her fading human eyes with his face. Her temporal heart couldn’t let go. One rush of power careened with a high soprano. It held for a full measure in a piercing sharp, cutting through her soul like a fine-honed knife. Salome fought the call. Muscle and bone vibrated at different resonances. They twanged with opposing force and jarring pain. A concerto of mystic song swelled. Like the tiny bee feet and wings, purple illuminated lights crawled along her body. This time it stung—a million minute pricks in one breath.

The symphony of her world was so strong, movement barely penetrated the melody. She squinted in confusion. Golden skin streaked with dirt-caked blood, Karok sprang like a rabbit from a snare. Salome gasped as he tackled Bryton from behind. The billowing cloud of pale dust obscured them but the sounds of grappling tore at her belly. Terror shocked through her with a blue-white crack. The fog settled and that terror skyrocketed.

Karok, blood-smeared, liquid murder shining from his topaz eyes, sprayed red spittle from his twisted mouth. Straddling Bryton’s waist, he jammed Bryton’s own axe handle across his throat. Brilliant blue blazed from Bryton’s eye. Back arched and pain lining his face, he clawed at Karok but jerked his hands away as if scalded. Salome’s horror grew with the realization that the warded-magic touch of Karok’s knees through his torn pants burned Bryton, adding to the pressure on his neck.

His mouth gasped, trying to suck in air but couldn’t. They struggled, Karok pushing down and Bryton clawing and kicking blindly. She raised her palm to blast a funnel of air but stopped. Even if she could summon wind inside this magical waterfall, she could hit Bryton. Karok ground the handle with increasing strength, his arms trembling under his force. Bryton’s lips turned dusky blue.

He will not die alone.

She jerked hard against the tow of enchantment. Her essence shrieked, the sound of an owl swooping on prey. Her bones shook in her skin and she stumbled, crashing into solid form with a pained gasp. Dust coated her tongue and clogged her throat as she slammed against the floor. Her muscles quivered with expended force but she drew her knees beneath her and began to crawl to Bryton.

“Bitch!” Karok kicked out, his boot tip catching her in the ribs. Starlight exploded in her sight. Bone crunched. A razor-sharp band wrapped around her chest, pain cutting off all attempts to breathe.

Bryton’s strangled gurgle pierced her screaming mind. Karok’s grip never lessened on the axe handle. The word
Justice
was framed between his bloody hands, Bryton’s Adam’s apple bulging beneath it. Frantic strength flooded her muscles, the burst of power born not of magic but pure human love. She must reach Bryton. She pushed to her knees once more and launched herself at Karok with a hawk’s screech and a woman’s love strengthening her.

Demonic wrath glittered in his eyes as Salome crashed into him. It was like hitting a stone wall but walls could fall and he did beneath her propelled force. She landed on top of him, knocking the axe handle away. She opened her mouth and clamped on Karok’s tight shoulder, driving her teeth down until she tasted thick salty blood. At the same time, she sank her nails deep into his neck. His scream curdled her stomach but she bit harder.

A stream of foreign curses scorched her ears and he thrust her away. She crouched to charge again but she had no training, no experience in battle. He leaped like a wolf, overpowering her. Thick, crushing fingers wrapped around her head and bloody spittle dotted her face. “Die, betrayer!”

Bryton rolled to his knees, coughing and gasping as his sight returned. The floor shifted left and his knees wobbled. The blister of magic and lack of oxygen had turned his bones to water but determined fury blazed in his blood. He used the labrys to push himself off the ground. Words grated against his aching throat. “Hey, asshole, you didn’t finish the job.”

Karok whirled, jerking Salome to his chest. His numbered hand clamped over her mouth. Hatred vibrated the dust air. Tiny half-moons bled droplets of blood along his neck and a crimson smear dripped along his shoulder. Desperate gulps of air heaved the painted chest he held Salome to. His lips curled into a snarl. “Once again,
Mashique,
we meet like this.”

Salome’s eyes were wide dark gray pools of concern, not for herself, but for him. A flood of might firmed Bryton’s muscles. Not again. Katina’s frightened gaze no longer haunted him and Salome was not without power. Both of the women he loved had freed him and now…now he would fulfill his obligation.

He hefted the labrys, swinging it into a familiar, comfortable position. “Yeah, and I’m sick of it. Salome, wind.”

A flash of quicksilver eyes and she was gone, the dust swirling from the force of her breeze. Karok gaped, his head swiveling to search for her. A sweet honey scent wrapped around Bryton and he let his lip inch higher as his hair snapped. Salome gave him strength from her simple touch. “You and me, Karok. No more women to hide behind.”

A gulp worked at the Skullman’s throat but he sneered. “You can’t kill me,
Mashique
.”

“Wanna bet?” Bryton swung the axe to his shoulder. Command rushed him, the cold deliberation of his office erasing all but the task before him. He narrowed the distance, every stalking step drawing him closer to the final peace for Eldwyn. Karok retreated, scrambling backward and grabbing a curved sword.

“Your duty calls, beloved. Deliver your justice. Let peace come to your homeland through you.”

Bryton snarled like a tiger, all controlled and deadly power. It didn’t matter if Karok carried a dozen blades or a hundred arrows, his judgment had come. The cries of every villager, farmer and tradesman rang through his soul, all tinged with fear, with horror, lamenting the senseless deaths. His blood pumped not for revenge but for every woman left widowed, every child left orphaned, every parent left grieving. This was who he was—Eldwyn’s final deliverance. Ritual words spilled from his lips as he drew closer to his enemy.

“The Land of Eldwyn has found you guilty in absentia of murder, treason and war crimes against her people. By order of her king, you are sentenced to death.” He wasn’t above toying with Karok, swinging the axe a few inches too short to draw blood. Karok leaped back. Bryton advanced. “I am his Might and his Law, sent to carry out your punishment. It is within my power to grant you mercy or salvation.”

The axe split the air with a screech. Karok thrust the sword up to block the blow. The thin steel was no match for Bryton’s heavier blade. The curved tip clattered to the stone, the hilt ripped from Karok’s grasp. The fearsome courage of Bryton’s gifted enchantment purred in his marrow and his warrior’s soul bellowed a deep battle cry. Controlled authority steeled his jaw.

Hatred collided with fear in Karok’s eyes. A victorious snarl warmed Bryton’s tongue beneath his ceremonial words.

“Mercy you are denied. Salvation is for the innocent.” He twirled the axe until the carving was visible to Karok. The Skullman’s gaze went to the handle and widened. “Justice is mine to deliver. Her name was Katina, you prick.”

The double-blade sang once more, the heft cutting with a deadly drone. It chomped at muscle, bone and sinew with a wet bite. Karok’s head sailed three feet from his body.

For one full second, silence echoed, the sound of peace in a land that had nearly forgotten the sweet harmony. It slipped into the stillness between his heartbeats with an awed splendor. Bryton closed his eye as the enormity filled him. How beautiful was the song of tranquility. Salome hummed a low windswept hymn.

The roar of applause reached through the rolling beat of his heart and spun Bryton around. Taric stood before dozens of soldiers, pride and gratitude etched on every face. Their weapons were sheathed and their palms met in a cadenced rhythm of honor, drums of hand on hand. One by one, they dropped to their knees and drew their swords, holding them high above their bent heads in a hero’s tribute.

Humility clogged Bryton’s raw throat and he sucked in a harsh breath. They’d all witnessed his judgment.

Bryton locked gazes with the king. A wide smile parted a now-full goatee around his mouth. He did not kneel but took a step toward Bryton. Chest heaving, Bryton let the axe fall to his side and moved a pace forward. A rough timbre Bryton had never heard cracked Taric’s voice. “You did it, Bry. It’s over. We’re finally at peace. You’re a hero.”

Bryton’s throat was salt-laced. He shook his head. “I didn’t do it to be a hero. I did it for Kat. And for Eldwyn. I just did my duty.”

Taric’s lip trembled. “Your eye?”

“Yeah, it’s going to take some getting used to, relearning some moves and compensating other ways, but it was worth it.” He allowed an haughty curl to lift his lip. “If anybody can pull off the pirate look, it’s me.”

“You arrogant bastard.” Taric snorted then closed the gap and gripped him in a fierce hold. Bryton squeezed back for one long minute, simply letting himself feel the brotherly love in the embrace. Taric’s eyes were suspiciously bright when he pulled away. He punched Bryton in the shoulder. “But you had to make me go through dark caves, didn’t you? A nice open field wouldn’t work for you?”

The tease worked, restoring Bryton’s humor and pushing the emotion under his devilry. He lightly slapped Taric on the cheek. “Shit, you look like you’ve already been in a field kissing a haystack. When are you going to shave that thing?”

Low laughter echoed in the room as men rose to their feet, looking around with stunned faces, weapons falling to their sides. Taric laughed. “Always a smart-ass.”

“I’m gifted like that. How’d you find this place?”

“A little bird paid me a visit and we found some women in a cliff cave who told us what you were doing.” Taric surveyed the demolished temple in amazement. “God, Bry, what did you do here?”

“This wasn’t me. It was Salome.”

Taric’s eyes widened. “That little thing did all this? Isn’t she a peacemaker?”

“Yep. Do yourself a favor and don’t piss her off.”

A flash of gold caught the light as Taric waved his hand, the monarch’s seal sparkling in the sun. The crew spread out, slipping into the catacombs with torches held high, searching for possible survivors. One soldier spoke softly to the huddled woman, removed his summer tunic and draped it over her shoulders before helping her walk to the entrance tunnel.

Myla appeared from the inky depths of the entryway. Her breeches, tunic and belted sword made Bryton shake his head. She might be a colossal pain in the ass but she was his queen and she had given him his new love. That made her tolerable. Her military scrutiny scoured every corner of the hall, noting bodies, weapons and debris. She joined her husband, tilting her chin to study Bryton. One dark brow arched, looking at his leather patch. “What happened?”

“Yeah.” Bryton rolled his good eye. “That tale will take some time.”

Taric scoffed. “And a pint of whiskey, no doubt.”

“Actually, I think I’ll stick to ale and wine from now on.” Bryton grinned.

Taric pulled a lock of Bryton’s hair. “What’s this? Showing your age?”

Bryton yanked the bit of hair away and stared at it. What was once a black streak in his copper had now turned to snowy white. A softness welled inside him. Katina’s caress had changed him as surely as her love had. She’d touched him and turned his sorrow to hope, removed the tearing misery and reminded him of her love.
Love never dies, it just changes form
. He sighed in thanks. He could have sworn a kiss of peach brushed his cheek.

“So where is your peacemaker?” Taric asked.

Bryton’s tongue itched to claim Salome as more, as his own, but the waterfall of magic that had encased her dropped his brow. She couldn’t leave him now, not now. He lifted his chin, thought her name and her magic wrapped around him. The honey-scented breeze kissed across his face with secret licks, private touches, before her form solidified in his gaze. Tears sparkled like diamonds in her eyes. A fragile smile quivered on her mouth.

“You have found your peace and delivered the same to your people. I am honored to have been your guide, Bryton Haruk.”

She was so much more than a guide. She’d become his blood, his bones, his breath. Her hand slid easily into his and he tugged her to his side. She fit with perfect harmony, resting her cheek above his heartbeat. She wrapped human arms around his waist. Bryton’s eye closed against the familiar brush of her soft hair, her velvet skin, her silken chiton. He couldn’t lose her now that peace had been found. Not even peace was worth that agony.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

“Here I am but a spell whose usefulness has passed. I am called home.”

He tightened his jaw and shook his head. “No, I still need you. I love you.”

“Not even the heavens can hold my love for you.” Salome swallowed and her fingers tightened on his hips. Hope stretched her voice to a feather stroke on the air. “Come with me.”