Chapter 4

4

Power of all kinds is double-edged, as much a threat to the wielder as those nearby.

~ Ranger Lord Vlerion of Havartaft

"Come with me to the barracks before you go," Vlerion said as they stepped into the courtyard.

Kaylina pulled her mind from concerns about her brother's safety. "I believe you meant to say, please, delightful companion of mine, come with me to the barracks."

Vlerion stopped to look at her, his face hard to read.

She doubted she'd annoyed him—she'd often said such things in the hope that he would stop ordering her around, but he seemed too accustomed to issuing mandates to his men to stop. Still, she watched his eyes for signs of irritation. Just because he'd gone with her and even facilitated her eavesdropping didn't mean he was happy with her. He'd been nuzzling her in the dark passageway, but he'd admitted before he had no trouble being attracted to her and vexed with her at the same time.

"Because you are training as a ranger, and you should learn, as Targon said, to obediently do as your superiors ask without hesitation, I've attempted to treat you no differently than any other trainee. But…" Vlerion tilted his palm toward the sky. "This is a request and not an order. I should have phrased it differently."

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in.

"Was that an apology?" Kaylina asked. "An admission you were wrong?"

"A confession that you were not incorrect to suggest a rephrasing."

"I'm going to interpret that as an apology. Excellent. I'd love to go with you to the barracks." She lifted her arm in offering.

Vlerion grunted and raised his to link with hers, but Jankarr and Zhani jogged out of the passageway between courtyards, and he paused.

"Everything all right, my lord?" Jankarr looked with concern at them, glancing at their upraised arms.

"Yes," Vlerion stated.

Jankarr arched his eyebrows toward Kaylina.

Had they heard or seen something to suggest otherwise?

"I think so," she said.

"Before they left, we heard Spymaster Sabor speaking to one of the guards who accompanied him." Zhani waved toward the stable. "The guard said something about your, ah, attractiveness, and Sabor told him to stay away from you, that he'd caught you eavesdropping and that you're trouble and you attract even more trouble."

"He technically caught me before there was eavesdropping," Kaylina said.

Zhani winced. "I knew you were up to something. I should have stopped you for your own sake. The spymaster is nobody to trifle with."

Kaylina touched her throat, the memory of the cold blade's kiss lingering. "I gathered."

"Sabor said Targon never should have handed your training off to someone inexperienced," Jankarr said.

Zhani winced again.

"You're to be punished, he said, for your infraction." Jankarr glanced at their arms, though they'd both lowered them. When he'd walked into the courtyard, had it appeared that Vlerion would grab her or hit her?

Kaylina had no idea what the punishment was for eavesdropping, but Targon mentioned flogging often .

Vlerion opened his mouth but glanced at Zhani and noticed several other rangers in the courtyard watching and within earshot. He gripped Kaylina's arm. "Yes. I will handle the punishment. Sergeant Zhaniyan was chosen to train Korbian for a reason, and it did not involve babysitting. Nonetheless, eavesdropping on royals and officials from the castle is not permitted. I will ensure Trainee Korbian does not make that mistake again."

"Sorry," Zhani mouthed to Kaylina as Vlerion led her away.

Doubting Vlerion had flogging in mind, Kaylina lifted a hand to try to convey to Zhani that it was all right. She was positive Vlerion had only said that because there had been witnesses. He probably wouldn't have put on a show for Jankarr alone.

Zhani's forehead was furrowed with concern and guilt as Vlerion led Kaylina into the barracks. Since she only knew cold and aloof Vlerion, she might well believe he would punish a woman. And maybe he had done so for wayward trainees in the past. But Kaylina trusted he didn't have that in mind for her. Maybe she could confide in Zhani later to alleviate her guilt, but she didn't know the woman that well yet and wasn't sure what she could say. Nothing about Vlerion's secret or their relationship.

"What are we going to do in the barracks?" Kaylina murmured as Vlerion led her toward his room.

"You're not open to being punished?"

"Not when you were eavesdropping right along with me."

"What if you'd succeeded in eavesdropping without me and I had been the one to catch you?" Vlerion asked.

"I suppose I might deserve it then."

"You do not." He stopped in front of his door, opening it for her. "I haven't forgotten that you didn't volunteer to train as a ranger."

"No, I did not."

"It does leave me conflicted about how to treat you. More in public than in private. Privately, you know how I feel."

"Irritated, vexed, and inexplicably drawn?" Kaylina stepped into his room, a nervous flutter teasing her belly when she glanced at his bed, even though she knew he hadn't brought her here for a horizontal rendezvous.

"I am rarely irritated and vexed with you these days. Occasionally exasperated."

"Only occasionally?"

That morning, he'd pointed out that a ranger was supposed to show up at dawn in training leathers, not ten minutes after with honey stuck to her fingers and treats to hand out to the taybarri. Exasperation had absolutely been involved.

"Occasionally each hour." Vlerion closed the door behind them. "As to the inexplicability of the draw , I believe we both understand it."

"Yes, you adore my whimsy and can't stay away."

"Whimsy, yes." He glanced at the top of her head. Was he remembering the mud and the reed antennae she'd stuck in her hair to make herself less sexy? If so, he didn't mention it, only pointing to his office. "I have a gift for you. Two gifts actually."

"Oh?"

Something long and wrapped in blue velvet lay on his desk, but he propped his hip on the edge and faced her instead of giving it to her. Maybe that particular item had nothing to do with her.

"I trust you've noticed my sword is magnificent," he said.

"I, what?" Kaylina glanced below his belt, memories of seeing him naked and aroused springing to mind.

"The sword I wield in battle," he said.

"Oh."

"Though the proper response to your interpretation of my first question should have been yes, my lord, very magnificent. "

"Uh-huh. Can't I call you Vlerion? When we're alone, at least?"

"Yes. I'd like you to."

"Then why do you always get pompous and add my lord to my sentences?"

"I worry about you. Your southern islands must be very lax and largely free of aristocratic influence."

"They are. I've mentioned that."

"But you seek to start a business here. Port Jirador, under the shadow of the royal castle and the unforgiving Evardor Mountains, is the opposite of lax. Your insouciant expressions and flippancy may get you into trouble with aristocrats who are even more pompous than I."

"Such people can't possibly exist."

Vlerion pointed at her. "That's what I'm talking about."

"Flippancy?"

"Flippancy." Vlerion flattened his hand to his chest. " I don't mind it."

"Except only occasionally?"

He snorted and flicked his fingers to acknowledge that maybe she did still exasperate him. Now and then. "I'm learning that it's a character trait of yours that I should, if not appreciate as much as your other assets, at least tolerate. I am aware that I have traits—and an ancestral curse—that you must also tolerate."

" Yes ." Tactfully, Kaylina didn't point out that the curse was easier to endure than the haughtiness. The former wasn't his fault. The latter was… a result of his aristocratic upbringing, she supposed. But he needed to get over that. "Just to be clear, are the assets you appreciate…" She waved vaguely toward her chest, though he didn't spend as much time ogling it as some of the other rangers did. Targon couldn't seem to resist—or didn't care to bother resisting.

"I admire your loyalty, courage, and selfless sacrifice for your family, per our previous discussions on the matter." His eyebrow twitched. "Your physical attributes draw the beast."

"Only the beast?"

"No."

The glint in his eyes—amusement and not something more dangerous—made her want to hug him. She enjoyed seeing his lighter side when he was willing to banter with her.

"Is it weird that I like that we don't have normal conversations?" she asked.

"I believe we've established a lack of normalcy in both of us."

"Yes." That made her want to hug him too.

But he was drawing his sword, the one sheathed at his hip, so she stayed back. Maybe he wanted to show her the magnificence that she'd never noticed. Probably because she was always watching him when he went into battle, not his blade. Besides, whenever he turned into the beast, he left the weapon behind, the same as his boots.

"I know you worry about me and my flippancy, my irreverence, and I won't deny that it's gotten me into a little trouble here and there." Kaylina bit her lip, thinking of the times she'd lost her temper and really had her tongue fly out of control. "But maybe my newfound powers will allow me to deal with anyone who's too uptight to respect the opinion of a commoner." She waved her branded hand at him.

Vlerion lay his sword on the desk next to the velvet-wrapped package. They were of similar length.

"I could convince nearby trees and plants to attack anyone who tried to chastise, flog, or arrest me," she added.

"Are you able to do that now?" One skeptical eyebrow rose, but Vlerion politely didn't mention that he'd found her tied and helpless in a valley after the Kar'ruk had kidnapped her. All she'd been able to convince the nearby plants to do had been to give her visions.

She hesitated. "I convinced a tree to help me fight a Kar'ruk warrior by dropping a branch on his head."

"Oh?"

"The Kar'ruk did sink an axe into the tree first, and I could tell it was peeved. It's possible that its help would have been scant if not for the offensive injury. Even with the dropped branch, I was lucky to have Levitke with me."

"That was an altered tree in the preserve?" Vlerion asked.

"A regular pine tree in the mountains where we found the press."

"Where you found the press." He held her gaze, beaming pride at her.

That warmed her to the core, and the urge to hug him rushed into her again. "Levitke found it. I showed her a newspaper article, and after she chewed it up, she tracked it to its origins."

"The taybarri are wonderful allies, but do not diminish your role. You will be an excellent ranger, should you be able to navigate working with your comrades and superiors without irking them."

"That is challenging. They're all so…"

This time, both of Vlerion's eyebrows went up.

"Stiff." That wasn't quite the word she wanted. It prompted her to glance at his groin again before catching herself and jerking her gaze away. Here she was resenting Targon for looking at her chest, and she couldn't keep her eyes off Vlerion.

"I'm glad you are as drawn by my beast side as I am by your anrokk side," he said softly. "It makes me feel less disturbed that you are able to control me now, at least in some small way. I believe I also have some sway over you."

"Yeah, you do." She thought of all the times they'd kissed against her better judgment. Even knowing the danger, she would have let him carry her off to do far more than kissing. He had the power to rouse her body with a mere look, to make her want him like she'd wanted no other. That was control, most certainly. And, of course, he was bigger and stronger than she, and could toss her over his shoulder at any time. It was hard to believe he worried about some vague druid magic in her.

"I can't really control you," she said. "You know that. All I was doing was trying to keep you from changing."

"Perhaps this time," he said, his eyes now brooding. "Your power is growing."

"Just because of the brand, I'm sure. The power the plant put in me may be growing." As soon as the words came out, she worried they were the wrong choice. Especially when his eyes darkened. "But it can't control me ," she hurried to add.

He had to be thinking about the vision she'd told him about, the vision of the plant wanting her to use her knife to kill him. Maybe she should have kept that to herself.

"I hope that will continue to be true," Vlerion said. "You've kindled hope in me that you might be the one with the ability to lift my curse, even though none of my ancestors who studied it were able to make any headway. They did not have the blood of druids in their veins."

"I need to talk to my mother about that someday. It's hard to believe that I'm not… what I always assumed I was."

"It is distressing to have one's self-identity forcibly altered."

"Yes. And, uhm, your sword is very nice." Not sure what she was supposed to say, Kaylina waved at the bared blade on the desk. It had a jeweled hilt—was that a sapphire on the pommel?—though it was wrapped in leather that hid whatever designs it might have held. The blade was straight with few dents, a dark blue-silver metal that had recently been oiled. "Prettier than the ones we practice with."

And sharper.

"Yes, pretty weapons are what we all desire." A slight twitch to Vlerion's lips was the only indication that it was sarcasm.

Since his had an expensive jewel on the end, Kaylina knew someone had cared about aesthetics. She was about to say so when Vlerion lifted the velvet-wrapped item and held it out to her.

"It will be some time before your ranger training is complete and you're sent into battle, but you've found battle enough on your own, so you need a weapon for close-quarters fighting. Something superior to your dinner knife."

"You're giving me a sword?" The memory of the plant's vision came to mind again, of her thrusting her so-called dinner knife into Vlerion's chest. If she was wrong, and the plant's power somehow managed to take her over, she could do a lot more damage with a sword. She grimaced at the thought.

"I am. I can see from the delight on your face that you're appreciative and honored."

"I'm touched that you want to give me a quality weapon. I just…" She licked her lips, not wanting to remind him of what the plant had shared but feeling the need to explain. "That vision worries me. You know I'd never attack you of my own volition, but, as you pointed out, the plant…" She shrugged helplessly.

"I did consider that when contemplating this gift. I'm willing to take the risk that I can defend myself should you strike."

"You know you pass out at my feet when your beast-ness wears off, right?"

"That would be an opportune time for the plant's power to force you to attack, but… as I said, I'll risk it. You need a good weapon. I'll defend you whenever I'm nearby, but you insist on residing and working in a cursed castle that longs for nothing as much as my death."

More than once since her training had started, Targon had suggested she live in the barracks in ranger headquarters. He'd even said Frayvar could have a room there, an offer perhaps prompted by Doctor Penderbrock, who apparently appreciated all the organizing and cataloging of his medications that Frayvar had done. The system Frayvar had developed was even more thorough than the food categorization in the pantry. But Kaylina felt compelled to keep an eye on the castle, and she also needed a break from the wandering gazes of the perennially horny men here.

"I think the castle longs for all rangers' deaths equally," was all she said.

"The plant has given you visions of your knife thrusting into Targon's chest?"

"No," she admitted. "Which is a little disappointing."

"Indeed." Vlerion extended the gift toward her.

After accepting it, Kaylina unwrapped a beautiful sword, not only bejeweled with sapphires, like his, but having an intricate vine and flower pattern that started at the hilt and ran up either side of the fuller of the blade. She wasn't experienced enough to tell a good sword from a great sword, but when she swung it experimentally a few times, it felt light and balanced in her grip.

"It was my brother's blade," Vlerion said, "though if I were to have one made for you, I'd choose something similar. You are even more inextricably linked to plants and nature than a ranger."

"It's beautiful."

"Yes. Vlarek wasn't that much taller than you, so I think you'll be able to use it."

"It's a gracious offer, but I can't accept a family heirloom, especially when I'm such a novice."

"It's not an heirloom. He had it made when he was accepted into the rangers."

"So… it's just expensive?" Kaylina wouldn't be surprised if the weapon was worth more than the entire Spitting Gull building and business back home. The kind of money that aristocrats had to spend on such things was mind-boggling.

"Quality custom-made weapons are expensive, yes, but he no longer needs it."

"Oh. I'm sorry," she said, reminded that his brother had died years earlier, cut down by rangers who'd been his allies until he'd lost control and turned into the beast.

"He would not mind me giving it to you, another ranger in training, someone who will put it to good use. Besides, since he was cursed in the same way as I, he also would have been interested in you."

Kaylina blinked as she imagined two Havartaft brothers being attracted to her, their beast halves drawn to her druid blood. Would they have fought over her because of that? And would she have been drawn to them equally and forced to choose?

She rubbed her face. "The anrokk power is… alarming at times."

His eyebrows didn't rise. He could probably guess exactly what she was thinking about. "Power is double-edged, as much a threat to he or she who wields it as those nearby."

Since she'd never had any kind of power before, she hadn't contemplated it that much, but she nodded, trusting he knew all about such things.

"Tomorrow, we'll take it to the swordsmith, and you can pick out a comfortable wrap for the hilt." Vlerion nodded toward the blade, assuming she would take his gift.

It didn't feel right to accept something so valuable. She could hear her grandmother's advice from years earlier, saying not to take expensive gifts from men or they would expect sex. If only she and Vlerion could have sex. Still, it would be useful to have a weapon she didn't have to return to the practice rack at the end of the day. And it was beautiful. Maybe if she accepted it temporarily, that would be all right?

"Okay. Thank you." Kaylina held the sword up with both hands. "If I become famous and am too busy making mead to defend the borders as a ranger, I'll return it to you."

"You'd best make time to defend the borders, at least when Targon asks, or he might sabotage your business to ensure you have time."

"Asshole."

"As we've discussed." Vlerion smiled, but only briefly, then rested a hand on her shoulder. "Sabor may also insist, at some point, that you make time to do his bidding. I regret that you've come to his attention. I know this isn't what you wanted."

"It's not. Vlerion?" Kaylina gazed into his eyes, an earlier question returning to mind. "If my brother and I decided it was too dangerous for us here, or the business wasn't working out, would we be allowed to leave? Do the shipmasters who visit the harbor still have orders not to give us passage?"

He hesitated. Because he didn't know? Or because he didn't want to give her an answer that would displease her?

"They do have those orders," he said quietly. "They are to keep you from leaving. Your brother would be free to go."

Kaylina lowered her gaze, feeling grim and glum. A few months earlier, she'd been so eager to leave home and prove herself, but how many times since her world had grown so dangerous had she thought longingly of her bed back in the Spitting Gull? Of the family she'd butted heads with so often but loved?

Vlerion squeezed her shoulder, then brushed his fingers along the side of her neck. "If you were to feel compelled to go, it's late enough in the year that the snow has melted in the pass. You could travel that way and get a ship from another port city farther south."

"Would someone be sent to hunt me down and drag me back if I disappeared?"

"That is a possibility."

She looked into his eyes again. "Would they send you ?"

Vlerion sighed and repeated, "That is a possibility."