To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1) (9 page)

Warmth spread over my skin, and a cloud of softness filled my thoughts. Going back to the castle did sound nice. Not fighting anymore sounded even better. Sirena was right.

My necklace blazed, clearing the fuzzy feeling from my head, and renewing my strength. I straightened my spine, pulling the jagged stone from beneath my dress and gripping it in my palm.

What had I been thinking? Why would I possibly go back with these women, after what I heard?

“I won’t go with you! Let me go home, or you’ll regret it.”

Meisha’s voice came to me as if from a great distance. “Join us now. It is your only choice.”

Then, she tried to usher the girls away from the edge.

Sirena paused. “Come on, Rose. Come with us.”

My heart ached. “You know I can’t do that.”

She turned to Blair, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Can’t you just let her go? You said it was our choice whether we wanted to join you or not.”

Clarissa answered, her eyes wide and innocent again. “Not to worry. We’ll take care of her”

A peaceful smile danced across Sirena’s face as she turned back to me. “You’ll be safe.”

Horror filled me as Meisha led her out of my view.

“You’re using magic on her!” I accused Clarissa.

Her eyes narrowed. “It certainly took you long enough to figure that out.” The fury in her expression, accompanied with the venom in her words changed her back into the dangerous creature that seemed to be her other half. “Now, what are you going to do?”

I turned to Blair. “Let us go.”

Her brows wrinkled. “You know I can’t.”

I glared at her, even as the wind whipped my hair into my eyes.

“I’ll still forgive you,” she said, reaching out. “We’ll simply go back to the castle and pretend this never happened.”

I took several steps backward, shaking my head.

But to my surprise, it was Clarissa who pushed Blair’s hand away. “You’d forgive her still?” she screeched. “After all she’s done!” She took several furious breaths. “You’re blinded by her magic, just as you were by her mother’s. I told you that she was trouble, but you risked it all for
her
. Now, you’ll pay for your mistake.”

“Clarissa—” Blair said, her name a warning.

In the blink of an eye, Clarissa was kneeling on the ground, a glowing dagger raised above her head. Blair reached for her, her mouth twisted into an unspoken word, but the sound of Clarissa’s shout blocked out all else.

“
Ahhhh
!” she screamed, bringing her dagger down onto the glass bridge.

It shattered beneath her angry blow.

For one horrifying second, my feet slid on the pieces of glass as they came apart, and my stomach lurched. A sense of a nightmare coming to life exploded in my chest, and then the world sped up.

Air whooshed around me, and I fell back, plunging into the darkness below.

I’d fallen into another world. A world of pain. A world of darkness. It threatened to swallow me. To consume me.

Sharp stabs of fire ravaged my body. I screamed and screamed until my throat was raw. And then, numbness washed over me. The reprieve from the pain left me empty, like a shell, and a word came to my lips. The same word I’d screamed over and over again as I fell.

“
Artemay
.” I whispered the name of The Goddess of Protection. Only now, it wasn’t said with fear and horror, it was a word spoken from a dying girl, born of pain, but created to bring comfort. “
Artemay
.” Tears escaped, making a warm trail on my frozen skin. “
Artemay
.” I gasped, and shuddered, closing my eyes at last.

A tingle spread over my body. Every hair stood on end. Was this my final moment? Was this what it felt like before one entered the Underworld?

The sensation of cold was the first thing that returned to me, making me aware of my body. The cold was everywhere at first, dancing over my skin, seeping down into my shattered bones and broken flesh. But slowly the sensation of warmth came, only it was the warmth of my blood pooling beneath my body.

I was aware of myself, ready to open my eyes, but what world was I waking into? It could be the place of snow and blood, the place where I was losing a battle with death. Or, I could awaken to find myself staring into the face of Ordunne, the eyeless guide to the Underworld. But, would he lead me to the sweet fields of the righteous, or the dark caves of those who would suffer even in death for their crimes in life? I wasn’t sure I was ready to find out.

Sharp pain pierced the skin at my throat, taking the decision from me. My eyes snapped open to peer into the face of someone I’d never known.

The young man’s eyes were like ocean waves, pale blue, dark blue, and white swirled together, brimming with both energy and life. They drew me in, as if nothing outside of those pools of blue existed… until the masculine lines of his face shifted, as his muscles clenched.

I escaped his gaze only to find the rest of him equally fascinating. Scars danced along the curve of his jaw and spread out like a web on one side of his neck. It was so like my father’s, like a painting done by the same artist. My gaze followed each line as if understanding them would help me to understand my father.

Only, this man’s scars were not pale, but slightly pink and puckered. Either they were recent, or hadn’t healed well.

Another movement caught my eye. In his hand, he clenched a sword that bit again into the flesh of my neck. Overhead, the fog had begun to thin, and early morning sunlight shone through it, giving the impression of a sky filled with wispy clouds.

How long had I been lying here?

“Give me a reason not to kill you!” he demanded. His startling eyes narrowed, and his grip tightened on his blade, but in his eyes I saw reluctance. He leaned in so close I could feel his warm breath on my face. “What have you done with my sister? What have you done with Sura?”

His blade cut deeper into my throat, and more blood spilled from my body, making me shiver so hard that the sound of my teeth chattering filled my ears. It was not a deep cut, not a death blow, but I could sense that I’d used too much of my powers healing myself already.

The shard of purple rock between my breasts warmed, but for once I drew no strength from the stone. I closed my eyes against the brilliance of the white snow, speckled with my blood.

The need to slip out of consciousness into a dark place where the pain from my still-healing injuries couldn’t reach me pressed in my mind. But somehow, I knew that I couldn’t. With each second that passed, my body healed. I wouldn’t die from my injuries, but I very well could die from the man and his sword.

Something I couldn’t allow to happen.

“Please,” I said, only the word that choked past my lips was less of a word and more of a gargle, so I tried again. “Please.”

He grabbed my chin roughly and pulled me to face him, his pale hair falling into his face, giving me a small reprieve from his prying eyes. “Are you begging me for your life?” he asked, tightening his grip on my chin. “Because we begged you not to take my sister.” He released me, pushing his hair back to reveal the determination in his face.

The shard of stone grew warmer at my chest until it burned, but from the fire licking at my flesh, strength grew. “I beg you to release me. They’ll come for me soon, and I plan not to be easy prey.” The words were a whisper, but I still took heart from being able to say them.

He sat back on his heels, resting his sword along his knees. “Who will come for you soon?”

His face was of a young man, yet I could see the worries of a man twice his age etched into his calculating expression. Could I trust him? If I judged him wrong, these might be my last words. “The Protectors of Tarak,” I said, focusing all my energy on speaking. “I’m running from The Protectors of Tarak.”

“You’re not one of them?” he asked, surprise in his question.

I regarded him carefully. “No.”

Reaching down, he flipped over both my wrists. “You haven’t been marked?” There was genuine astonishment in his voice.

“Marked?” I asked, confused.

“Goddesses help me,” he bowed his head. “I never wanted to hurt someone like you… a woman hoping to escape The Protectors.”

The regret in his masculine voice held me enthralled.

“Let me help you.” His mesmerizing gaze met mine again.

I struggled to think clearly. “Why would you want to do that?”

He frowned. “Because I hurt you. And, well, because I’d offer sanctuary to anyone fleeing The Protectors.” He paused, obviously struggling with what to say next. “Having a similar enemy should make us allies, I think.”

Logic said I shouldn’t trust a man who just moments before held a sword to my throat, but something had stirred deep inside me, and it trusted him without reservation. “All right.”

He rose, his jaw clenching, the movement changing the pattern of the scars. “Can you stand?”

I struggled to prove I could, even though the effort left me winded.

When it took me too long, he swooped down, wrapping his free arm around my waist, and pulling me to stand.

I swayed on my feet and looked down at the ground. Around me, the snow was crimson; spreading out so far that I wondered that any blood was left in my body.

“What happened to you?” he asked breathlessly. His jaw had dropped open. His face twisted into horror and surprise, as he inched his way out of the blood that seeped out to touch his boot.

“I fell from the bridge.”

His grip tightened on my waist. “I heard the noise; I saw the pieces of glass fall from the sky. But when I saw you still breathing, I couldn’t believe you’d fallen from above.”

I shuddered in his arms.

His hold, as well as his tone, gentled. “How are you alive?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured, and then I remembered the word I’d shouted as I fell. The word I’d whispered as I died. It was the name of the Goddess of Protection.

“The witches must have used their powers to protect you.” He brushed hair out of my face with such gentleness my breath caught in my throat. “They must want you alive.”

I exhaled loudly, trying to ignore the warmth left by his touch on my cheek. “That must be it.”

Lying felt wrong, but telling him the truth felt like too much, especially when just minutes before he’d had a sword to my throat.

“Can you walk?”

I nodded, although I wasn’t entirely sure.

His arm slid from my waist. It lingered protectively as I recovered my balance, and then he stepped further from me. “Good, because we’ve got a long way to go.”

I ran my hands along my body, searching for the source of all the blood beneath me, but saw nothing. My green dress and cloak was drenched in multiple places, but I was in one piece.

Moving my limbs, I took slow steps forward. My body ached, but nothing felt broken.

I stared at my hands. Was I really walking away from such a fall without a scratch? My stomach churned. I’d never heard of magic this powerful before, but perhaps it was the goddess’s name that was powerful, not me. I wish I understood this world of magic better.

“The only injury I see is the one I caused.” He drew closer to me, inspecting my neck with a look of immense regret.

“Is it bad?” I reached up and touched my neck, pulling away to inspect the blood on my fingertips.

“Here.” He pressed a pale blue handkerchief to my throat, then after a moment drew it away.

“It doesn’t look too bad.” He stared hard at my throat. “Although I think it’ll leave a scar.”

In that moment, I could’ve cared less about the stinging at my throat. All I wanted to do is go somewhere warm and sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he said, handing me the handkerchief without touching me. “I don’t normally hurt women, but Protectors, well they aren’t women.”

“Forget it.” I didn’t want to have this conversation now, not while I was trying my best not to sway on my feet.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his gaze raking over me.

“Rose,” I whispered, trying to keep my thoughts from showing on my face “Rosalyn Vidoryn. And yours?”

His eyes widened.

My words struck me with the force of a blow. Had I really just given him my full name? Never before had I been so careless, so foolish.

“My name’s… Asher Hant.”

Our eyes locked, and a strange tingle passed over my body. It was an unwise thing to give one’s full name. We’d both just taken a huge risk, an unwise one.

I wouldn’t use his name to harm him, but if he ever found a woman of magic, a Protector or a witch, and could determine how my true name should be spoken, I’d regret this moment for the remainder of my life. And yet, I’d be ignorant to believe the feeling stirring inside of me were all due to fear, and not something greater.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, concentrating once more on moving my stiff muscles.

The strange sensation of being watched swept over me as I squinted, peering at the fog above. I wanted to believe The Protectors would simply accept that I was dead, however, it couldn’t be so easy. Even though I could see nothing of the three women I could
feel
them, even from such a great distance.

Shivering, I forced my gaze back to the man. “Where are we going?”

He frowned, but his indecision only drew attention to the fact that he was remarkably handsome. “To a place where you can hide. Is that what you want?”

My heart raced. “Yes.”
Until I can find a way to save Sirena.

Sirena.

Just thinking of her sent terror racing through me. She was still with those women. Would she be safe until I could return? And how could I save her, without just getting myself caught again?

My head ached. I needed to push away such impossible thoughts until I’d at least rested a bit.

He re-sheathed his sword, and swept his white cloak over his shoulders, hiding his dark clothes underneath. Then, he drew the hood over his head. “This way.”

I followed him without a word. My body hummed with pain at each step I took, but also the hard rock in my stomach eased. The women would likely search for me soon, and the further away I could get, the better.

The air grew colder as time passed. But in the valley, the wind wasn’t so fierce. My cloak offered me some protection, even though the wet spots of blood chilled my skin. We ducked beneath trees laden with snow, and climbed over boulders. He moved ahead of me with practiced ease, but waited patiently as I followed.

The valley I’d entered seemed to have been carved out of the world by the goddesses. Towering walls of rock rose from two sides of the valley as far as the eye could see. Each layer of the earth stood out along the wall in glorious reds and browns, except where a few scraggly trees and plants managed to take root and grow, showing tenacity just through their survival.

But the longer we traveled, the more my body ached. My back and sides pulled with every move until each breath I took was more a gasp of pain. At last, I stumbled and fell to my knees. I tried to rise with all my might, but each gasp became a sob.

Asher came back and knelt beside me. “We can rest for a time.” His voice was gentle.

I shook my head. “We shouldn’t. I can go on.” Tightening my muscles, I tried to rise. “Oh goddesses!”

He touched my arm. “You’re in pain.”

“I’m not,” I denied.

Pain could be overcome. Ignored. If a job needed to be done, a person simply needed to do it, not complain about it.

He didn’t speak for a long time, just sat beside me in the snow as I struggled to rise.

“I’m not weak.” I spoke between clenched teeth.

“Of course you’re not. You’ve just been badly hurt.”

I shook my head. “That’s not an excuse.” I tried to stand again. He gripped my arm and pulled me into his lap.

Sitting in his lap should’ve felt strange, but instead it simply felt right. Warm and safe and as natural as pinecone on a pine tree.