Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

F ionna woke, cradled and warm. An unusual sensation that took a moment to process. When she did, her body stiffened and Kormac drawled, "Did you know you snore?"

"I do not," she huffed, sitting upright in the saddle.

"I beg to differ." He offered a dry reply.

"Where are we?" she asked, glancing around. The horses trotted along a dirt-beaten track flanked by knee-high swaying grass.

"Still too far from our destination."

"Which is?" She'd never asked when she'd joined his party.

"Risead Pass." He went silent before adding, "Call it a hunch, but I have a feeling Lomar's been called there to help the thing escape."

"That would make sense. In the snippets the possessor revealed, it was clear it couldn't yet exit its prison, that it required an extra catalyst. I wonder what that is, though."

"Given the murderous rampages? I'll take a guess and say death."

"Death isn't power, though, but the end." She frowned. "Unless there's a different kind of magic involved."

"Magic of the soul?" he commented, which led to her mulling the idea for so long he murmured, "Are you sleeping again?"

"No, thinking. This thing that took your friend isn't something we've ever dealt with. Given how long it's been imprisoned, we can't be sure what it can do. The journal might have had clues, but the theft ruined the chance to find out."

"I think Loff was behind its removal."

"What?" She half turned in the saddle which put her face very close to his. "Why do you say that?"

"Because he was spotted inside the citadel the day it went missing and yet he had no business being there."

"That's why you brought him along. To keep an eye on him."

"Aye." He nodded. "I searched his belongings but didn't find the books. They could be back at the citadel, though."

"More likely he destroyed them." Her lips turned down. "A shame. We could have learned quite a bit."

"It's my fault. Knowing how the people might feel about you, I should have had a guard watching your room."

"But then how would you have visited for our debauchery?" she teased with a smile before turning to face forward.

He snorted. "You do realize that us disappearing together will have them in a frenzy."

"Your mother especially. I'm apparently not good enough for you."

"My mother should mind her business. You are more than enough. A lady, a warrior, and you're not annoying most of the time."

"Me, annoying?" Once more, she turned to show a rounded mouth. "You're the one who's grumpy."

"I'm grumpy because you don't listen."

"Only because some of your orders don't make sense."

"I'm the one in charge. You're supposed to obey."

"I'm not your subject," she hotly retorted.

He stared at her, grumbling, "You drive me mad on purpose, I swear."

"A good thing I'll be gone as soon as this thing with Lomar is done."

"Never said I wanted you gone," came his low mutter.

"Then what do you want?"

Apparently, to kiss her.

It happened suddenly, and she didn't mind. She'd had a few dreams featuring him, and in that moment of breathlessness, as their lips moved together, she realized why.

I like him. Not just liked him but finally had the urge to be with a man in a carnal fashion.

Inexperience didn't stop her from following his lead. Her lips slid against his, parting at his coaxing. The touch of his tongue against hers had her squirming.

He pulled back and his gaze smoldered. His voice rasped as he said, "We should save this for later when we're somewhere a little less open."

"And not as high off the ground," she opined.

"As if I'd let you fall," he scoffed, his arm holding her tight.

He nudged his knees, and the horse began to gallop as if it, too, were eager to get them somewhere private.

Somewhere he could kiss her again.

Maybe touch…

Anticipation did strange things to her body. She felt feverish. Her breasts tingled while the vee between her thighs became slick. When he placed his hand on her thigh, her breath hitched. When it slid under her leather skirt to touch bare skin, she uttered a small sound.

He didn't stop there.

His fingers inched towards her sex, and it ached, not in pain but as if it yearned for something else. Wanted him.

When he pushed aside her underclothes and touched her, she gasped. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like? Pleasuring you."

"I thought we were supposed to wait until we're somewhere less open." The plains they traversed were flat and clear for miles around.

"I can't with the scent of your arousal driving me mad."

His fingers danced over sex, teasing and lightly stroking. Her head leaned back against him. Her hips instinctively angled to give him better access.

He rubbed her in a spot that had her gasping and panting for breath.

"I wish we were somewhere I could taste your nectar," he whispered against her ear, making her shiver.

She tried to imagine him between her legs and shuddered. Would she enjoy it?

She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until he chuckled. "You will enjoy it very much."

His finger parted her nether lips and slid into her. She tightened reflexively.

He grunted. "You really haven't been with a man before."

"I told you I had no interest."

He stroked her and purred, "You seem interested now."

She couldn't reply as her hips twitched and she moaned at his touch.

His finger thrust into her, and she whimpered. She felt hot, tight, coiled on the precipice of?—

"Oh." She uttered a cry as a strange wave of pleasure washed over her. It had her clenching and undulating, even floating all at once. When she could open her eyes, she felt a strange relaxation in her limbs.

"That was more interesting than expected," she murmured.

"That's just the beginning, my lady witch."

She shuddered at the promise in his tone.

A while later when he announced, "We'll camp here for the night," she could barely stand on her wobbly legs.

But he was there to hold her up and kiss her.

Kiss her briefly before muttering, "You make me forget my duty."

He made her forget her name, so kind of the same. As he tended to his horse, Fionna gathered brush and sticks to start a fire. When she would have created a dirt tent, though, he shook his head. "We need to be able to hear them coming."

"I was going to place a ward around the area."

"And if it fails?"

Her lips pursed. He had a point.

"I'm going to scout. Stay here and watch my horse."

She might have argued only it gave her the opportunity to contact Amelia. She pulled out her mirror and her mentor appeared quickly as if she knew Fionna would be calling.

"How are things?" the witch queen asked.

"Complicated." Fionna gave her a quick recap on the attack of the dragons, Lomar, and the attack the night before by the wolves and ogres, before getting to the plan, which consisted thus far of getting to Risead Pass.

Amelia couldn't hide her worry. "Sounds like things are getting dangerous. Katya and Lorranne are on their way to assist but it will be several days before they reach you. I don't suppose the warlord would wait for their arrival."

She shook her head. "I'm only with him because I followed by air. He tried to leave me behind."

"I don't like this, Fionna. When I sent you, it was to observe and report on the situation, not get involved."

"If I don't, they won't stand a chance. They have no defense against magic."

"And you are just a single witch against something very old and dangerous," Amelia pointed out.

"Something that is still in prison for the moment. Mayhap I can find a way to ensure it can't escape. Reinforce whatever wards keep it trapped."

"You're assuming magic is what bound it."

"What else?"

"I don't know," Amelia sighed. "This whole situation is unsettling, and it doesn't help that my visions have ceased for the moment."

"Has that ever happened before?"

"No, and I find it worrisome."

Fionna changed tack. "Have you ever heard of a witch's spilled blood making magic stronger?"

Amelia's brow creased. "Why do you ask?"

"Because after the dire wolf bit me, I was bleeding quite copiously and when I formed my fireball and launched it, threads from my blood mixed with it. The missile hit like magma and punched a hole through the ogre. I've never had anything like that happen before."

It took Amelia a moment to reply, and she did so slowly. "I don't recall it being mentioned in any of our histories."

"We lost most of our records in the flooding," Fionna pointed out.

"True, but personally l don't see how blood would make a difference. We've bled in skirmishes before and never seen a boost in our spells." A good point.

Fionna gnawed her thumb. "It was odd."

"Have you tried to do it again?"

She shook her head. "I'm not keen on bleeding to test it out."

"Could it have been something else? Perhaps you ate something that enhanced your magic."

"I hardly think hard tack and dry bread are suddenly magic boosters," was Fionna's wry reply.

"Ah, yes, field rations. I don't miss those," Amelia replied with a smile.

"I don't suppose you've had any luck in translating those symbols I sent?"

Amelia shook her head. "Nothing yet. Cirie thinks whatever it represents might have been changed to a word we know now, whereas Kayla is of the opinion it references something very old and now extinct."

"That's frustrating," Fionna grumbled. "I would have liked some hint as to what to expect from it and how to counter it."

"I wish you'd reconsider coming home. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine. Between my magic and a warlord who knows how to use his sword, we'll find a way."

"I hope so because I'd hate to have to declare war on Srayth for losing my adopted daughter."

With that Amelia ended the conversation and Fionna startled when Kormac stated, "She wants you to go home."

She whirled. "And I told her I wasn't leaving so don't even bother trying."

He shook his head. "You were right that I need you. Magic isn't something I can handle, even if I am good with my sword." He winked.

She wasn't so na?ve that she didn't understand what he meant. She might even soon find out how good.

Alas, they never even had a chance to spread their bedrolls. A distant howl had him looking off in the distance.

"The wolves are hunting," he murmured.

"They won't find us," she promised, rising and spreading her hands to cast a net over their encampment. It would mask their presence while giving warning if anything approached.

Despite its presence, Kormac refused to sleep. "I'll watch while you rest."

"And when will you sleep?" she retorted.

"When we ride. You can guard me while I snore."

Fionna managed a few hours of slumber before the attack.

The wolves rushed their camp in the wee hours, only a half dozen this time, easily dispatched. Wide awake, though, they ended up setting off before dawn with her once more riding before him. Even when the sun rose, he insisted she remain with him instead of flying.

While she watched, Kormac slept, but he didn't snore. He woke the moment he felt her tense.

"What is it?"

She pointed. "I see smoke."

His lips pulled taut. "We should check it out."

"I didn't think anyone lived out here." While they'd seen roving bands of horses, there'd been no sign of human life other than the barely visible bare dirt road they followed between the sprouting weeds and scrub.

"The plains are sparse in population, however, some like that solitude."

They rode towards the fire, the source hidden by a copse of trees that clustered in defiance of the lack of greenery elsewhere on the plains. As they entered the tiny forest, they encountered a beaten path. Following it brought them to a smoldering ruin.

Fionna glanced around and noted the fencing forming paddocks and the lumps within of whatever used to live in them. A garden had been trampled and uprooted. The house that once stood, gone. As to whoever had lived there? No sign. Had they escaped?

Kormac dismounted and helped her down before he stomped among the embers and ashes. He kicked at it and grumbled, "This wasn't an accident."

"How can you tell?"

"Fires don't decapitate bodies." He pointed to something that took her a moment to recognize as a head. A head with no body. No wait, there it was, by one of the paddocks.

"This wasn't the work of wolves," she murmured.

"And I doubt it was ogres." Kormac walked away from the burned home, head down, watching the ground before he knelt and pointed. "Horse tracks."

"Why is that important?" she asked.

"Because they're fresh."

"Could be someone in the house escaped."

"Aye, but I doubt their iron shoes would have my sigil." He pointed to the symbol faintly visible in the earth. "Only steeds used by my army have those."

"You think it was Lomar." The logical conclusion since the man had stolen a horse when he escaped.

"Seems most likely. In good news, the freshness means we're not far behind. In the bad…" He glanced behind at the destruction.

The bad being Lomar continued to kill.

Since the bodies were already burned, they quickly remounted and left, barely stopping since Kormac refused to camp.

When she'd protested, "What about your horse? Doesn't it need to rest?" he'd replied, "He'll tell me when he's too tired to keep going. Our stallions fetch a high price for a reason. Their endurance being a large part of it."

An endurance that used a bit of magic she noticed when she peered with her other sight. The stallion appeared to be pulling from the very air itself, using those threads to replenish tired muscles, allowing it to gallop with ease. She wondered if all the horses in Srayth had that ability. If yes, it would explain why they were so highly valued.

While they never caught up to Lomar, the hard riding paid off. What should have been a journey of almost a week took just under four days. They came in sight of the garrison guarding the mountain before sunset, and she shivered as they approached.

"Should have worn your pants," he murmured.

As if she'd remove the easy access. Despite the gravity of their mission, he'd been pleasuring her daily. Teasing her until she writhed and whimpered in his lap.

He'd actually dragged her from the saddle at one point, kissing her hard, pressing against her, only to pause and groan, "I hear the wolves again." The blasted beasts had been shadowing them but not attacking.

"I'm not cold." She eyed the garrison. "There's something wrong with this place."

"Wrong how?"

She frowned. "Hard to explain. I can say the threads around here are dull and lifeless. It will make it harder for me to cast a spell."

"Maybe you shouldn't go inside," he suggested.

"I said harder, not impossible. Besides, I think you were right. I might not be a mighty hunter like you, but even I know fresh horse shit." She pointed to the pile.

"Someone is here, but we can't assume it's Lomar, and even if it is, he might not be alone. We need to tread with caution."

"Is this where we suddenly realize we should have come with an army?"

"This is something I have to do," he replied grimly. "Ready to go inside?"

A part of her wanted to scream "no, let's run far away from here," but she'd never been a coward. She'd been taught to fight. To stand tall against adversity.

Had they made a mistake in coming alone?

Possibly. However, would an army make a difference? Maybe against a pack of wolves or even the ogres, but if this were a fight with magic, then soldiers would have gotten in the way.

While she'd showcased some of her spells, they were the kind easily directed to avoid casualties among allies. However, she knew others, the kind that could decimate everything in its path. She just hoped Kormac wasn't standing in the way if she had to unleash it to save her own life.