Silverlight (14 page)

I
t turned out that sleeping in Magnus’s bed with
him was a good idea after all.

For three weeks, nightmares stole my sleep. I’d
awaken drenched in a cold sweat with a scream lodged in my throat.

They were always the same: Magnus became Garai,
Garai became Magnus. It didn’t seem to matter that they were as different as
two men could be. My brain was determined to fuse them into one.

Magnus would hold me tightly when I woke up
fussing. The soothing sound of his voice, his warmth, and the way his arms felt
around me were my anchors to reality. The setting sun didn’t unnerve me nearly
as much now, thanks to Magnus and his gentle touch.

His gentle,
dangerous
touch.

Ah, yes. And it all started with too much wine.

We headed to the house for a late supper after
a long day of training. My technique improved when the nightmares stopped, but
I was still missing something. My eyes and brain didn’t seem to work in sync
anymore. I couldn’t process what I saw fast enough to react to it. Magnus said
it was residual fear. I thought it was more likely my age.

He didn’t consider the other marks I carried.
The ones that were physical. The scars laid down by Garai’s lash pulled across
my back and legs every time I moved. They’d loosened some but not nearly
enough.

Still, I was pleased with my progress. Magnus’s
frown said otherwise. 

I planted my hand on my hip. “At what point are
you going to realize we’ve come to the end of the line? That I’m as good as I’m
going to get?”

His nostrils flared. “I’ll know it when I see
it, and I haven’t seen it yet.”

So be it. I was satisfied, and that was all
that mattered. The training strengthened my body and mind. I resolved to
continue for those two reasons alone. Still, I was incensed at his assertion
that I wasn’t good enough. He would not be the sole judge of when – if – I
reached my pinnacle.

“Jackass,” I said, just to let him know I
disagreed.

This wasn’t a battle I wanted to fight right
then. Mrs. Toolwin had made dumpling soup and wheat bread, and I was starving.
I followed Magnus into the house to wash up.

 
“I
shall have Mrs.
Toolwin make dumpling sou . . . sou . . . soup for you every night, my . . .”
Magnus pounded a fist to his chest and belched as we climbed the stairs up to
bed. “My . . . shweet.”

“Every night? That’s too much. I would miss her
roast beef.” I wrapped one arm around his waist to steady us both.

“Every other night then.” He gave me a silly
grin.

“We can draw up a menu later. I’m too exhausted
to think right now.” I opened the door to his room and guided him inside. I was
glad to see that Tomas had lit several candles and turned the bed down for us.

I wasn’t nearly as drunk as Magnus but I
was
unsteady on my feet. He was too big for me to be piloting around the room. I
tried extra hard to concentrate on where I placed my feet, but we both stumbled
over the fringed edge of the woven rug.

Laughing, arms flailing, we careened toward the
bed like twin arrows shot from a bow. I tried to hang onto him as we sailed,
turning my body in mid-flight and catching him under the arms. My success was
partial: he didn’t hit the floor, but the full length of that hard body landed
right on top of me.

My first instinct was to push him off. The
second was to pull him in. The scent of wine, those dark eyes, the way my legs
seemed to open when he pressed his hips against mine – it all culminated in
that wonderful tickle of desire flaring to life.

Yet, I’d dreaded this moment, hadn’t I?

Thinking about my situation wasn’t working, so I
kept still and tried to feel. To his credit, Magnus didn’t move a muscle. I
think he was just as shocked as I was.

“That’s just fear talking,” Magnus had said,
and I was wholly tired of taking direction from my fear. Calm and rational,
that’s what I needed to be. This was Magnus Tyrix, once the love of my life,
now my savior. He’d fed me, clothed me, defended me, yelled at me, and pushed
me to excel. He wouldn’t take me by force. He wouldn’t hurt me.

I still had a choice. I could tell him no, and
he would honor it.

Or I could tell him yes and complete the
connection between us.

“Magnus.” I spoke his name as a prayer. “What
if it happened tonight?”

“What if what happened?” He stared into my
eyes. “Ohhh. That.”

“I want to. I don’t know if I can.”

He sobered. “Your decision, Kymber. It has to
be right for you.”

“I don’t know.” I let go of a soft sigh. “I may
never know.”

“I’ll wait.” He threw me a brilliant smile.
“I’ll wait an eternity, if that’s what it takes.”

An eternity. Gods, could I go an eternity
without making love to him? I put my hands on either side of his face. “It
would be a good way to put the past behind us.”

“It would.”

“Then the answer is yes, Magnus.”

“I don’t want to traumatize you further. I
don’t think . . .”

I put my hand over his mouth to silence him
then removed it. “I’ll stop you if something doesn’t feel right. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He captured my mouth with his. Soft
and warm and
safe
, he kissed away the last of my resistance.

I was mindful of the hiss and flurry of
clothing being tossed about the room, and then we were naked.

 My mind played a balancing game with my body.
One demanded I move forward, the other cringed and recoiled. Careful breathing
and reciting basic truths in my head helped.
The first time he takes you
will be fast and intense, but not brutal. Not painful, because he would never
hurt you. He loves you.

He half-sobbed my name against my shoulder.
“Kymber, my sweet Kymber. My life. How did I do it? How did I survive without
you?”

“Well, well. Apparently, wine helps you tap
into your romantic side.” I kissed the side of his head. “And loosens your
tongue. Not that I mind. A woman likes to hear that she’s missed and
appreciated.”

“Missed and appreciated doesn’t even begin to
describe it. If you only knew how often I wept for you. How I ached to hold
you. Marry me, Kymber. Tell me you’ll be my wife.”

Gods. I hadn’t expected to hear that. “One
thing at a time. We should sober up before we make promises we don’t intend to
keep.”

“Oh, I intend to keep my promises.” He shifted
and pushed himself into me.

I gasped and closed my eyes. The gentle merging
of two bodies, done with love.

I wept and remembered. Gods, I remembered.

T
he years fell away that night as though we’d
never been apart. I held Kymber in my arms, content to listen to her breathe,
to feel her heart beat against my chest. I wanted to share everything I was
feeling, but I had no words. Ah, it was just as well.

She was mine again. I was hers. Despite what
she’d been through, she trusted me enough to let me make love to her.

“What are you thinking over there?” I asked.
“No regrets, I hope.”

“No regrets.” She snuggled against me. “I guess
I’m stronger than I think. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to…” She heaved a
sigh. “Only you, Tyrix. Only you.”

“I will avenge you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Fair enough.” I buried my nose in her hair and
breathed her in. “Will you marry me?”

She laughed quietly. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

“You’ll tell me no tomorrow. I want an answer
tonight.”

She was quiet for a long time before she
whispered, “My answer tonight is ‘I love you and I’m not going anywhere.’ That
will have to suffice.”

I smiled. It did.

W
e trained as usual for the next four days, then
Magnus disappeared overnight. He was unusually quiet when he returned.

He didn’t tell me where he’d gone this time. It
bothered me, but I’d wrongfully accused him of riding into Adamar to meet with
Garai and Tariq. He truly had spoken with Jarl Aldi that night. I’d made a fool
of myself. I didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

Still, there was a niggling feeling that
something wasn’t quite right with him. I blamed it on myself. My emotions still
swung wildly from serenity to panic over the smallest things.

The morning after he returned, Magnus got up
while it was still dark, dressed, and left the room. We usually got up
together, but I pretended to be asleep. He’d rolled and tossed all night, but
he seemed particularly tense as he pulled his breeches on.

I tried not to think about why. Was he
regretting me now? What would I do if he asked me to leave?

I took a deep breath and rolled over. The twin
moons were big and bright, framed by the window on my side of the bed. If he
asked me to leave, I would do it. I wouldn’t overstay my welcome if he’d
changed his mind about me. Thanks to him, I was back on my feet.

I eventually fell asleep, waking again when the
sun was high in the sky. Seacrest’s ratty brown rooster crowed outside,
reminding me of James. I smiled and rolled out of bed to greet the day.

M
agnus and I always
trained mid-morning, before we ate breakfast. I could do anything on a full
stomach, but it made him sick to move about so much after a meal.

He didn’t make an appearance at the table, nor
did he seem to be anywhere in the house. The stables, perhaps?

I was just about to open the back door to look
for him when I saw a strange man pacing near the fountain. I hesitated a
moment, my hand on the latch, and watched him.

He was tall and dark-haired, and he wore long
flowing robes in rare colors: purple and red and gold – the rich colors of a
rich man. 

One of Magnus’s friends then? I didn’t know,
but I didn’t like the look of him.

The man seemed equally nervous, meandering from
one side of the walkway to the other. His lips moved, as though he were trying
to memorize his lines for a play.

He had a long, curved sword strapped to his
left hip. Red and gold jewels studded the silver sheath, further proof of his
wealth. Magnus sometimes sold his horses. Perhaps the man had come to look for
a stallion he could race in Adamar, which meant Magnus might indeed be in the
stable.

I stepped out of the house and walked toward the
fancy visitor. He froze when he saw me, placing his hand on the hilt of his
sword.

And that’s when I saw
her
.

A young girl just budding into womanhood,
perhaps fourteen or fifteen at the most. She was as willowy as a sapling, with
long, wavy, dark hair sparking auburn. She wore a plain brown tunic that was
threadbare and torn. On her knees near the fountain, she had her head bent
forward, her hands tied behind her back.

I jerked to a halt, my feet stuck to the
stones. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The man gave me a hostile grin, baring several
gold teeth. “You are Kymber Oryx?”

Though his look was all wrong, the man spoke
with a Pentorian accent. Should I fight or run? I wanted to disappear into the
house behind me, but I didn’t want to leave the girl alone with him.

The Kymber I’d been would’ve cowered. I lifted
my chin instead. “I am. State your business.”

His sword hissed out of its sheath; he pointed
its gleaming tip at me. “I will fight you. For the girl.”

“What?” I blinked once, twice. “That’s absurd!”

“I hear you fight pretty good for a woman. If
you win, the girl goes free. If
I
win . . .” I saw that ghastly leer
again. “I will sell her to rich man. She’s young. Pretty. I will make big money
with this one.”

My body went up in gooseflesh. “Does Magnus
know you’re here?”

He shrugged. “Magnus is gone. I promise to
place your body near the fountain, where he’s sure to find it. Fight now?”

I moved my gaze from the man to the girl. She
lifted pleading eyes to mine. “Please. I just want to go home to my family.”

I just want to go home to my family.
Gods. How often had I
thought that very thing? Ten years ago, I
was
this girl.

It began as a white-hot orb in my gut,
spreading down my arms, into my hands, and across my shoulders. Fury. So
primal, I felt oddly calm. I knew what would happen if this man sold this
innocent child into slavery. I might die beside Magnus’s fountain today, but I
was going to do my best to save her from that fate. 

I pulled Promise from her sheath without a
second thought. “I’ll fight you. You’ll be sorry you ever came looking for me.”

I went at him with everything I had, driving
him back toward the large oak that grew beyond the fountain. I attacked him
with practiced vehemence, the scars, injured hand, and older body forgotten.
Years of training and instinct trumped all my weaknesses.

The man was good, but I was better.
Offense,
Kymber. Make him defend. Hit him fast and hard until he tires, then kill him.
It
all came back to me in a glorious rush.

I cut and slashed, my blade a blur. I feinted
to one side and moved to the other, rendering him helpless to anticipate my
moves. I kept my eyes hard and focused on his.

He was soon wide-eyed and slack-jawed as he
defended with his sword. I wasn’t giving him a chance to strike at me.
Good,
you kidnapping bastard. You didn’t expect a fight like this, did you? I’ll make
sure you never take another young girl from her family.

I could have swung at him all day, but he fell
over a tree root protruding from the lawn. He broke his fall with both hands;
his sword hit the ground and skidded away.

Flat on his back, the slaver now saw fit to
beg. “Please. I never meant to . . .  This was not
my
plan! It was . . .
was . . .” He shook with fear, a stark contrast to the man who’d challenged me.

I stalked forward, Promise cocked over my
shoulder. “You don’t need to explain. You were going to consign this poor girl
to a life of slavery. Make your peace with whatever gods you follow. There’ll
be one less predator in the world after today.”

I tensed and prepared to slash his throat open,
but strong hands caught me in midair when I leapt at him. My feet came off the
ground as I flew backward.

The captive girl screamed. “No! No! Please
don’t kill my father!”

All the air went out of me then. As my feet
found solid earth, I sagged and turned, only partially registering Magnus
behind me. He’d pulled me back before I could kill the slaver.

“Your father? This scum is your
father
?”
Trembling and out of breath, I glanced from the girl to Magnus. “Why did you
stop me?”

“He’s not scum!” she shouted.

“I’m sorry, mistress,” the slaver said. “I owed
Magnus a favor. No one was supposed to get hurt.”

The man’s Pentorian accent was gone. I inhaled
as much air as I could and glared at Magnus. “What have you done?”

I saw it there, on his face, in his eyes. Magnus
had arranged this, but it had gone too far.
He’d
gone too far. Someone
was going to die today, and it wouldn’t necessarily be the man I’d thought was
a slaver.

“This is my friend, Tal Banrak and his daughter
Marissa. He owns the inn on the outskirts of Adamar,” Magnus said.

I fully turned to face him. “Why did you do
this?”

“I knew you could tap into your former
abilities if I pushed you hard enough. All I had to do was find a way to anger
you.” Magnus’s tone had gone from strident to conciliatory faster than I could
blink.

I slowly shook my head. Unbelievable. “Did this
little drama amuse you?”

“My goal was not amusement, Kymber.”

“Good, because if it was, you failed
spectacularly. I understand how pushing me, angering me sometimes brought out my
best, but this was uncalled for.”

“I was simply trying to motivate–”

“You thought to motivate me by forcing me to
rescue a young girl from a slaver? Have you gone insane?”

A gleam shone in his eyes. “It worked, didn’t
it? That was the old Kymber Oryx I saw just now, not . . .”

I punched him as hard as I could in the jaw. He
staggered. “Damn it, Kymber. That hurt!”

“Is there something wrong with the current
Kymber Oryx?” I lifted my sword and stalked him. He scrambled to put distance
between us.

Tal Banrak gathered up his daughter and headed
for the corner of the house and safety. He looked back just once. “I’ll see you
in Adamar, Magnus. Best of luck to you!”

Magnus growled at me. “I don’t understand what
your problem is. I did this for your own good.”

“My problem? My problem is that you seem to
want to live in the past. You are so full of shit, I can smell you from here.
You did this for
your
own good. Because you can’t stand . . .” I
struggled, the word bitter on my tongue. “You can’t stand to
fail
. You
weren’t going to be happy until you turned me into the Kymber that lived in
your memories. She’s gone.”

“You give up too easily.”

“You miserable bastard, I’ll
castrate
you.” I tried to inhale and exhale at the same time and made myself dizzy.
“Since you don’t seem to understand nuance, let me put it plainly for you.” I
moved forward one step, then two. “I was used and beaten every single day,
sometimes several times a day, and not always by Garai. I’ve been left to hang
by my shackled wrists for days on end, my toes barely brushing the floor.
Sometimes, if the pain was especially bad, I saw
things that weren’t there.
Dragons, elves, pixies.” I moved another step forward. “Do you know how much of
my blood is soaked into the stone floor of that castle? I’d own the fucking
place if blood were coin. I put myself to sleep once by counting the drops as
they hit.”

“Gods, Kymber.” Magnus’s face had gone stiff
with horror.

“Do you know what it’s like to sleep naked in
your own piss and shit in a cage? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be
surrounded by the scent of rotting meat and know it’s your own hand you smell?”
I inhaled a lot of air. “Shall I go on?”

“Please, I didn’t–”

“Yes, you did.” I pointed at the spot where the
girl had knelt. “Do you understand what the sight of that poor child did to my
insides? I knew firsthand what her future looked like because I’d lived it.” I
wasn’t taking in enough air to compensate for the speed of the words coming out
of my mouth. I staggered and slumped against the oak. “Don’t you
dare
tell me I give up too easily. I’ll kill you without a second thought.”

“I didn’t . . . I had no . . .”

“Quiet. Not another word.” I loosed a breath,
my heart racing. “Did you think Garai composed sonnets and brought me flowers?
Did you think he tucked me in at night when he finished with me? Do you
know
what happens to women in captivity?” I let go of a short, derisive laugh. “No,
of course you don’t. You’ve never seen it for yourself. It doesn’t trouble your
sleep at all.” 

We stared at each other for several long
moments. I finally sheathed my sword. “I’m leaving. I’m packing my clothes and
my sword, and I’m leaving. I’m taking a horse from the stable so I can put a
good distance between us before nightfall. I’ll send it back with Jarl. Thank
you, at least, for the kindness you’ve shown me.” I gave him a slight bow.
“You’re a right proper bastard, Magnus Tyrix. I don’t ever want to see you
again.” I headed toward the house as fast as I could.

“Kymber, please don’t leave. I didn’t think. I
never meant to hurt you. I swear I didn’t! I’m sorry.” He sounded like a
wounded child.

I stopped but didn’t turn. Sorry. What did that
mean? I had to protect my heart. If I didn’t, who would?