Untouchable (11 page)

WITH
every step Tari took, she grew more anxious. She was moving away from Vyrn, and though he had said he’d be back for her, the farther apart they were, the more uneasyshe became. The thought of never seeing him again, of never touching him, of not having all that he promised—it was a nightmare. She’d had no hope of love and happiness before meeting Vyrn, but now that she had those things, she would not allow them to be snatched away.

Besides, if they reached King Bhaltair’s court and one of his wizards or witches looked at her and saw the truth of what she’d done . . . Even Vyrn couldn’t save her from the king’s wrath.

When the others stopped for water and a quick bite of lunch, Tari slipped away. She wrapped some bread in a kerchief, hid it in her apron pocket, and then she stepped into the forest as if she needed to relieve herself. Once she was away from the others, she began to run. Back the way they’d come, back to Vyrn, she ran. After she’d run for several minutes, she made her way out of the forest and onto the road, where she could run more easily. She glanced back once, even though she knew no one would be following her. A missing maid was not important enough for them to give chase. She was merely a serving girl, and when she did not return from the forest, they would assume either that she’d run away or that a vicious woodland creature had eaten her. They would not even wonder about the fact that they’d heard no screams.

Here in the road there was nothing to impede her progress as she ran. The wind whipped across her face and mussed her hair, and she found herself smiling, even when her legs began to ache. When she’d left the castle, forced into serving the blue slave who was everything Tari was not, she’d been miserable and without hope. Now she was filled with hope. Hope and love.

Such a change did not come without a price. She would never forget the startled look on the princess’s face when the poor girl had awakened to find the knife at her throat. Princess Edlyn had been surprised for only a moment before Tari had sliced her throat with the knife Vyrn had given her. In that moment, the princess had known she was about to die. Tari had not given her the opportunity to scream. A scream would’ve brought soldiers running, and that could not happen. All would be ruined if the truth were known.

Tari had wisely worn an apron for the killing, since Vyrn had warned her that there would be a lot of blood. That blood-stained apron was buried in the forest not far from the campsite where the killing had taken place, and not far from where Vyrn had hidden the prince’s sword. No one would miss that common and insignificant garment, one of many from the castle laundry. She’d buried it so deep that no one would ever find it.

As she ran, she thought of Vyrn and all he promised. Love, marriage, children, love, love, love. She had come to enjoy the sex, but it was much more than that which bound her to Vyrn. Any man would likely fill that need for her, if she required it. It was the love itself that spurred her on. A handsome man loved her. He needed her. He wanted to marry her. A once hopeless future had vanished, and a new and brighter one had taken its place.

Tari had never thought herself to be a cruel person, but in order to have what she wanted, she would do anything. Anything at all.

SANURA
was charmed by the small cottage and the woman who had done the baking which had called them in this direction. After a diet of weeds, berries, and water, the roasted meat and garden vegetables—along with the sweet bread they had smelled and a tankard of cider— made a most scrumptious meal. There was a small barn where the horse Alix had collected after their welcome had been assured could rest—with the woman’s donkey for company—and there was hay and fresh water for the animal, as well.

The woman, who introduced herself simply as Donia, was a pretty, dark-haired woman who did not look to be more than thirty years of age. She seemed genuinely glad to see other people, and yet inside she hid something. Donia had a secret, and it frightened her to know that others might discover what she hid. If Sanura looked deeper, she might discover this secret, but she did not attempt to do so. Behind the secret there was a simple, good woman who would do them no harm. Nothing else mattered. Besides, it would be rude to pry, to push for information about their hostess. She would see what she was meant to see, as always.

Donia was very much isolated in this cottage in the woods, and at a quick glance Sanura saw no evidence of a male resident. There was a doll sitting by the fireplace, but no child about. It would not be polite to ask questions, especially as she and Alix did not wish to answer questions themselves, but Sanura was most definitely curious. A woman as pretty as Donia could marry well. With her baking skills, she could support herself as a baker in a village, large or small. Why was she here, apparently alone? The secret she hid kept her here, no doubt. Yes, she was a prisoner to the secret; she protected it with her very life, and would continue to do so.

Donia had easily accepted Sanura’s outrageous story of an unfortunate mishap with a vat of fabric dye, and she was very happy to take a gold bracelet in exchange for the food she so generously shared. It was obvious from the way she smiled at and wore the bracelet that she was unaccustomed to fine things but was certainly not averse to owning them.

They ate and drank and enjoyed not only the food and cider but the much-needed rest.

Donia was not afraid of Alix, but she was certainly wary of him. She kept her distance from him, though she was very much at ease with Sanura. Of course, Alix was a large and obviously powerful man, and might be seen as a physical threat to any single woman, even though he had done nothing to make Donia fear him.

After a fine meal and a short rest, Sanura could tell that Alix, who had been very quiet since they’d entered the cottage, was ready to resume their journey. He was tense, his neck and jaw and lips tight. No wonder Donia was wary! Alix needed a long, luxurious massage to relieve his tension, or perhaps an orgasm. Either would do. Given his current state of mind, neither was likely in the near future.

Of course, if Trystan decided to rise once again, that would change. Sanura wanted Alix, but she was afraid of Trystan. And yet in so many ways they were one and the same. If she were going to suddenly dismiss all that she’d been and all that she’d been taught in order to choose a man for herself, then why could she not have fallen for a simple, uncomplicated man? Why was it this one who seemed, so very much, to be hers?

They were saying good-bye when the door to the cabin swung open so swiftly that Alix reached for his sword. He relaxed when he saw the child standing there.

Sanura did not relax, and neither did Donia.

The child who had thrown open the door with such force was exquisitely beautiful, and looked to be five or six years old. Her hair was a pure white gold, and it fell to her waist in thick, straight strands. Her eyes were a brilliant blue that bordered on purple, and her face was without flaw. There was nothing to rival a child’s unblemished, fat cheeks and soft mouth, no beauty could compare. The dress the child wore was white and plain, and even though she’d been outdoors, it was unstained.

On the outside this was the perfect child. Inside, she was not so beautiful.

This was Donia’s child, and she was also Donia’s secret. This little girl was the reason a young woman hid in the woods, isolated from all others as much as possible. The appearance of the child frightened her, even though there could be no reason for anyone to fear such an innocent little girl.

“I told you to wait...” Donia began.

“I grew tired of waiting.” Though the tone of the voice was that of a child, there was an adult tenor that put even Alix on edge. The little girl came into the cottage and slammed the door behind her.

Sanura tried to look into the girl. There was something of Donia here, yes, but there was also something dark. This darkness was nothing like that which Alix fought. It was deeper, darker,
demonic
.

The little girl turned her eyes on Sanura. They were cold and fierce and not those of a child. “Do not use your witch’s powers on me unless I give you permission to do so.”

“I cannot help what I see,” Sanura said honestly. “I did not mean to pry.”

“Mali,” Donia said. She wrung her hands. “Our guests were just leaving. Please, let them pass.”

“Not just yet,” Mali said.

Alix, who knew nothing of the child before them, raised one eyebrow. He was more amused than concerned, but he did not sense the dark power in the innocent-looking Mali. Who could look upon such a child and see anything of danger?

Sanura relaxed a little. She didn’t attempt to see into Mali any more than she already had, but she knew that, like Alix, this child struggled. Like Alix, this little girl fought for her very soul. Even though Donia believed that all was lost for her and her daughter, that there would never be anything for them but fear and seclusion—she was wrong.

Without fear, Sanura dropped to her knees so she was eye to eye with Mali. “May I take your hand?”

“No!” Donia took a frightened step forward. To Alix it likely looked as if she were afraid for her daughter, but Sanura knew she was more afraid of what her daughter might do to their guests. There was great power in this child, some tapped, some as yet untapped.

Mali offered one small, delicate hand as if she were a queen. Sanura took it, and she was immediately washed in a power like no other she had ever known. Good and light from her mother, mixed with a demon’s powers and greed, a violent gift from her father, made this child what she was. In a flash, she saw an unwanted glimpse of this child’s creation.Sanura saw it all in an instant, even though to see into the past was not her gift. She saw all because the child wished her to see. Donia had been kidnapped by vicious soldiers and then delivered half-dead to their leader, a demon-possessed man who had raped her, beaten her, and even bitten her before leaving her for dead.

But Donia had not died, and Mali had been born of the night of terror.

“All is not lost,” Sanura whispered.

“All has been lost for a long time,” Donia answered just as softly.

The hand in Sanura’s was a child’s, soft and pliable and fragile.

“No,” Sanura said, “there is as much of you in this child as there is of her father.”

Donia flinched at the word “father.”

“Teach her,” Sanura said. Her eyes met Mali’s, and there within the cold she saw light. She saw hope.

“How can I?”

Sanura lifted her head and looked at Alix, who was thoroughly confused. “This child possesses great powers and is in need of a teacher to help her harness them. A great tutor will be required.”

Alix’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He saw this diversion as a waste of time, a distraction. He was impatient to move on, not yet realizing what was truly before him. “I know of a wizard who lives near Arthes. Sian Chamblyn. He and his wife, Ariana, have trained witches and wizards in the past. I’m sure they would not mind working with another. This child is very young, however, and we have other matters to...”

“They will kill her,” Donia whispered as she shook her head. “I did not ask for this, but Mali is mine and I will not let them kill her!”

A light of understanding came into Alix’s eyes, and he smoothly drew his sword. “She is a demon’s child.”

Mali did not let go of Sanura’s hand when she waved the other, as if she were shooing away a pesky fly. Alix’s sword was magically plucked from his hand. The weapon went flying away from the people in the small room. End over end, the sword tumbled through the air before twisting one last time and ending with the tip embedded in the wooden floor.

“I could’ve killed you,” Mali said calmly, “but I did not. Do you still wish to kill me?” She was unafraid in a situation which would terrify most adults.

Sanura lifted her own stilling hand. “Mali won’t harm us,” she assured her companion as he retrieved his sword.
She is like you
, she wanted to say, and yet she could not share Alix’s secret.

So many secrets.

Sanura took Mali’s hand in both of hers, and she smiled. “You have great powers, child. I am gifted, but I possess nothing near your gifts.”

“Mother says I will bring disaster wherever I go,” Mali said. “I was born to bring misfortune.” She shrugged as if that prediction did not concern her, but it did.

“That is not true,” Sanura said. “You are as much your mother’s daughter as your father’s, and with training and determination you can be a great force for good in this world.” Again, she looked at Alix. “We must get her to this teacher you know.”

While Alix did not make a move toward Mali, not for good or for ill, he was horrified by her suggestion. “I cannot, I
will not
subject Sian and Ariana’s children to this . . . this monster.” He lowered his voice as he said the final word, but that did not negate the hurtfulness of it.

Sanura glared at him. “Mali is no more a monster than you are.” The words had more meaning for the two of them than for Mali and her mother, and Alix got the message loud and clear.

“Still...”

“Choose another teacher, then,” she interrupted. “There must be someone who can help.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded in reluctant agreement. “We must first finish the task at hand.”

Mali laid her hand on Sanura’s arm. “You wish to remove the blue,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Why? It’s very pretty. I wish I was blue.”

“No!” Donia shouted, but it was too late. Mali’s skin began to turn. Shades of blue drifted across her skin, coloring her face, her hands, her arms.

“Your wishes come true,” Sanura said with a smile.

“Sometimes,” Mali said with a shrug. “If I wish it for myself and I wish hard enough. I suppose I should wish it away now, though it is very pretty. I look like the sky on a fine winter day.” The next wish must’ve been silent, because the blue gradually faded until Mali’s flesh was once again pale and creamy white.