A Magic King (37 page)

"Can be rescued."

Her softly spoken words penetrated his anger as all her screaming hadn't. He lowered his fists to his sides as his mind already began working out strategies for a mission he refused to consider. And in his silence, Jane pushed her point.

"I know the layout of the factory. There's a ventilating shaft no one is aware of, even the Tarveen. One person, maybe two, could sneak through with a ladder. Your people could climb out to safety. Then, afterwards, you can establish guarded borders. Later on, when your people are stronger, we can think about what to do with the Tarveen. Who knows, without their herd, maybe they'll turn to other meat."

"You're dreaming."

"It can work. Take their Holy Book along in trade. That way they won't be so vicious, so suicidal in their hatred. And that in turn will give your people a little breathing room."

Daken frowned as he tried to absorb her words. "What Holy Book?"

"Kyree had it. He said it was important to them even though they couldn't understand it."

"I will not negotiate with the Tarveen."

"This isn't a negotiation, but it's also not a war."

Daken shook his head, not believing he was considering this wild plan. "You split some very fine lines, Oracle."

She lifted her chin. "It's a line I can live with, and it's a damn sight safer for the captives than a war."

Daken looked down at the hard woman before him. With his healer's eye, he saw the energy of her convictions shine through her like a golden aura. She was indeed beautiful, but she bore no resemblance to the soft woman he'd just made love to all night long. No, this woman was implacable and cold toward him.

This woman was the Oracle, and he was just beginning to realize how very, very different she was from the Jane who teased him so passionately last night.

"An army would be better."

"It's all you'll get, Daken. It's the only plan with my support."

He spun away, pacing into the main room of her apartment. Looking around, he wished for some food or something he could sink his teeth into, not for nourishment, but for the satisfaction of ripping it apart with his bare hands.

"It will be very dangerous." He spoke the words, but his mind was elsewhere, already deciding he would have to wear dark clothing and blacken his face. Did he dare leave his bastard sword behind? Its shine might outweigh its benefits. Daken was equally lethal with any number of smaller weapons.

Jane leaned down to straighten her leggings, speaking with an almost casual air. "I will be very cautious, and I will trust you to choose my companion very carefully. He should be small. The passageway is very tight..."

It took a moment for her words to reach him. But when it did, he nearly dropped his dagger in shock. "You!" This was beyond enough. "You can't possibly think I'd let you—"

"I'm the only one who can go. I know where the ventilation shaft is. If anything goes wrong, I know the entire layout of the factory and surrounding tunnels."

"Draw me a map."

"A three-dimensional map? I can barely draw stick figures."

Her words only made him more angry. He placed his hands on his hips, his legs wide. "You're not a trained warrior."

"This isn't a war," she shot back. "It's a rescue mission that requires stealth and knowledge."

He growled low in his throat. "You are the Keeper. The Elven Lord will not let you go."

"The Elven Lord wishes me at the devil right now. He'll let me go and pray I get killed."

Daken remained silent, searching for another reason she might accept.

"Why don't you just admit it, Daken. You don't want me to go because you can't stand the thought that a woman could do this while you have to wait on the sidelines."

He stepped forward, his anger burning all the more brightly because there was a grain of truth in it. But only a grain. "There are women warriors in the Bloodmen. Trained fighters who could kill me in a fair fight without even breaking a sweat. I have no quarrel with women as fighters."

"Well, good," she said.

"But you, woman, are not a fighter. You're the Keeper of Knowledge and a great deal more valuable safe in my castle—"

"You need me to lead you to the storeroom. There's a maze of shafts and ducts to go through, and we don't know which ones still exist. I have to go."

He clenched his fists until his arms ached all the way up through his elbows, but still he couldn't find a way around her logic. If he wanted this rescue to succeed, she would have to go.

"You will stay behind me at all times. And when I tell you to run, you will run."

Jane looked up at him, her eyes a startled clear brown. "You? You can't go."

"These are my people!"

"And you're the only healer left to them. It's too risky for you."

He nearly choked on his rage. "By the Father, you are irrational!"

"Whoever goes with me needs to be small."

"I will eat sparingly."

"Will you chop off one of your shoulders as well? Be reasonable, Daken. You're too involved in this. The best military efforts are accomplished by dispassionate third parties."

"Woman's nonsense," he spit out.

"It's not nonsense. Emotions confuse the thinking."

"Or bring them into excruciating clarity."

"You're too close to this issue."

"And you're not? You're my wife!"

She stood before him, her mouth gaping open in shock. Then she shut it with a snap. "Was there a priest somewhere I missed? I don't seem to recall saying, 'I do.'"

He drew himself up, insulted to the core. "Don't be obtuse. There has been no ceremony, but you are my wife nonetheless."

"Because of last night?"

"Of course."

"Except you've bedded women before without marrying them. What about that blond bard who gave you the communication spell?"

Daken ground his teeth. He'd forgotten she knew about Sarla. Reaching for the oldest defense, he simply said, "That was different."

"Bull hockey." She turned away, grabbing her boots to draw them on.

"You said you love me!" he bellowed at her, all the while wondering why they were fighting about this of all things.

She turned to him, her eyes sad as they reflected the dawn in her unshed tears. "And I do. I love you. But I don't think we can live together. The only time we're not fighting is when we're kissing. And that doesn't make for a peaceful life." Then she paused, swallowing her nervousness. "You haven't even said you love me."

Daken slammed his hands against the wall, feeling the coarse brick bite into his palms. "Have I not called you my sweeting? Have I not allowed you your position as the Keeper? Have I not given in to your insane idea of this rescue? By the Father, what more do you want?"

"What does 'sweeting' mean?"

He turned around, dropping his back wearily against the stone. She was still on the couch, watching him with those innocent eyes, wide and nervous like a fawn trying its legs for the first time. "It means wife."

"I don't want to be your wife. I want to be your love. I don't want you to
allow
me to be the Keeper. I am the Keeper. Can't you accept me as I am?"

"And can't you show me respect? You think you know best. We are stupid peasants compared to all your vast knowledge, but I have experience and an understanding of this world, and you are still young. I respect your opinion on the guns. They are of your world, but the Tarveen are of mine, and so was Kyree."

She was silent for a long time, staring at her hands as they lay small and white in her lap. For a moment, Daken feared he had pushed her too far. Then she looked up, and some of the fire died in her eyes.

"You're right, of course." She looked away, her gaze abstract. "Most of my life was spent studying, trying to pound whatever learning I could into a not-so-quick mind. Then suddenly, insto-presto, I've got the knowledge of the ages. What isn't in my brain, I can access by computer." Her hands twisted in her lap. "But knowledge doesn't mean wisdom, and in many things, like with Kyree, I'm still foundering. Your experiences are far better than all of my learning." She glanced up, her eyes clear and sincere. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, knowing that, in truth, he liked her arrogance. It suited his queen and was a necessary bulwark against his slight tendency to dominate. "You learn quickly, Jane. In ten years, you may indeed think me—"

"A stupid peasant?" She stood up, crossing to him with a lazy stride that set her hips swaying in a seductive rhythm. "I've thought many things about you, King Daken. But stupid and peasant were never among them."

She reached up a hand to his face, but he caught it, using it to reel her in for his kiss. He claimed her mouth, plunging into her as he had the night before. When it was over, he still felt like he hadn't won. She wasn't yet his queen.

Her next words confirmed his fear. "You've got my respect, Daken. You always have. But that's not a marriage."

He sighed, wearying of this argument. He knew from his parents' arguments that sometimes a man just had to let things pass until the woman discovered the errors in her thinking. They still had time to disagree on this. He didn't need to officially claim her until he reached his court.

So he smiled, kissed her pert, upturned nose, and pushed her away. "It is time we told the Council."

She agreed with a nod and a slight smile. It wasn't until she reached the door that he stopped her. He held her from the hallway with one firm grip, telling her in expression and body positioning that he meant what he said.

"I will go with you into the Tarveen hole. I will take the lead, and you will run when I tell you to."

She chewed on her lower lip. "Is there anyone else, anyone smaller, who you could trust?"

"With your life? No."

She finally nodded. "Then there is no one else I would want by my side."

Chapter 15

As Jane predicted, the Council enthusiastically supported their plan. None of them liked the idea of abandoning a completely pacifistic reign. And although the dwarven representative was disturbed she would go on the rescue attempt, Jane remained adamant.

Despite her own nervous fears, she knew she was the right choice. Even if she could have drawn a three-dimensional map for someone to study, she was the only person alive who had any hope of dealing with the lingering machinery in the automobile factory where the Tarveen were based.

So the Council quickly approved the plan, and in their joyful mood, Daken easily obtained permission to take two swift horses. He asked to be instantly transported to Chigan, but with Kyree dead, no one could reliably zap them to their destination. Kyree had been the only one who could manage a jump to Chigan, and Daken wouldn't risk an accidental trip to the bottom of the ocean by a less skilled mage.

They got horses instead. The transaction happened so quickly Jane never had the opportunity to mention she hadn't a clue how to ride. Then again, she thought with a grimace, since she wasn't likely to find a car anywhere nearby, now seemed like as good a time as any to learn.

Two hours later, she wasn't so sure. She faced the blunt nose of her lean, shaggy horse with a trembling in her stomach. He looked harmless enough. Almost bovine. But she'd seen the best ones run like the wind.

Daken mounted up. He sat on what looked to her like a simple saddle—a seat, stirrups, pommel, reins. All the normal stuff, assuming you find sitting on a shaggy beast normal.

Daken's horse whickered impatiently, and Daken snuggled to control his large animal. "Come on, woman. We're losing daylight."

"Uh, would now be a good time to mention I've never ridden a horse before?"

For a moment, Daken's jaw went slack. "By the Father, woman, do you know nothing?"

"Hey, Einstein's Theory of Relativity never required me to sit on top of some shaggy monolith. But I'm a modern woman," she said more to herself than him. "I can adapt. I mastered step aerobics. I can lick this thing."

"We bathe the beasts. We do not lick them!" Daken's indignation was almost palpable.