Warrior's Touch (Deadly Touch book 2)

“Well, this is interesting.” Anya slid the book across the table, displacing the volume Llew had been trailing her eyes across, yet again taking little in.

True to his word, Aris had blocked all communication between Llew and Jonas. Llew’s place at the meal table had been shifted so she was farther from anyone she knew. And Jonas and the other Quavens had usually eaten and gone before she was invited to sit and eat. Llew felt even more lonely. And now Cassidy’s family had claimed his body, she didn’t have that outlet anymore. She’d started talking to her horse, but she wasn’t allowed outside without a guard. They were mostly certain Braph was dead, but it was hard to forget how he had flown in and flown off with her only weeks earlier. She understood the need for a guard, but it stifled the things she could say to Amico’s disinterested ears.

The girls, again, had books spread across the large table on the ground floor of Lord Tovias’s estate library. Llew figured it was a way to pass a morning, even if her mind wasn’t up to much thinking at all. So many dead-ends. She was tired. Still, it was better than being alone with her own thoughts. Much, much better to load up on those of others, especially others who were well in the grave now. They wouldn’t judge her. They wouldn’t imprison her, bleed her, hate her …

“Seems you might grow breasts, yet.” Anya nudged Llew with her elbow.

“What?”

“It says here that Aenuks mature several years later than others.” Anya tapped the relevant page. “It seems that, at eighteen, you’re still growing. Gosh, I hope you’re old enough to have a baby. I’ve heard some horror stories about girls giving birth too young... This isn’t helping, is it?” Anya pulled the book back in front of herself.

Llew gave a sardonic shrug and looked down at the way her dress hung straight down at the front and realized how alien her body was to her. She’d been on her own by the time puberty kicked in. She’d known she was different, because all the other girls of Cheer’s streets had begun using their new assets several years earlier, while Llew still had nothing to interest the men of the night – those willing to pay, anyway. Of course, she’d known about her healing ability. She hadn’t thought to connect the two together.

“This suggests you may even live longer than the average person. How about that, then?” Anya traced her finger down the page, engrossed in the new knowledge about Aenuks.

They fell to silence again as Anya absorbed all she could and Llew tried not to panic about whether her body was ready to have a baby, never mind her sanity. There was no going back, but, by the gods, it was scary. And she was expected to go through it alone?

“Huh.” Anya’s muted exclamation brought Llew’s tumbling thoughts to a standstill.

“What?”

“This one seems to be saying that Immortals existed alongside Aenuks and Kara.” Anya brushed her finger across the relevant lines of text. “No mention of Syaenuks or Syakara, though. I always thought they were the original … varieties, after the Immortals were split. But this is only one book, I suppose.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that until I find the same story written elsewhere, I take this one with a grain of salt. I would consider it mere fiction, but for the fact the writing is most compelling.”

“Uh.” Llew had already lost interest. She leaned heavily on the table, elbows splayed, head heavy in her hands. The baby in her belly was a solid lump of problems.

One afternoon and one night. A fantastic afternoon and the most pleasant night she’d ever had, but the consequences were sorely threatening to outweigh the good.

And where did Aris get off suggesting the child was Braph’s? If Llew believed that for a moment she would have been figuring out ways to end the problem already.

Her hand settled protectively over the invisible bump. Not Braph’s. Jonas’s. And safe from such thoughts.

Damned Aris and his hold over Jonas. How could she do this alone?

The library door opened and both girls turned to the rare intrusion.

As if conjured from Llew’s thoughts, Aris entered, giving them a nod.

He swept his gaze up and around the lengths of shelves, then he approached the table. He took a moment to scan the volumes open before them then looked at Llew and forced a smile, friendly-like. It could very well have been genuine, but Llew was struggling to take it that way after everything he’d said the day before.

“I’m mighty interested in how you were able to heal him,” he said. “I am ’specially interested by the lack of news out of Turhmos. I had it in mind that Jonas, being as powerful as he is, might make a bit of a mess of the Turhmos landscape, or cause one or two deaths.” Aris’s eyes widened. “That’s not what happened to Cassidy, is it?”

Llew shook her head. “Cassidy was an accident. I didn’t want to kill too much, so I only brought them back to life, I didn’t heal them properly. I was going to take them both to the Ajnai, but …” Llew could feel her eyes burning. “Cassidy passed in the night and had been gone too long by the time I woke. I should’ve woken in the night.” She felt the trickle of a tear cross her cheek. “I didn’t think … I should’ve …” She fought to hold back the threatening blubber. The self-loathing she’d felt at the time was rising. She’d failed Cassidy.

“Shh. No one blames you,” said Aris.

Cassidy’s cousin Alvaro did. He’d made that clear, and had every right to. And yet, somehow, Aris’s comment soothed.

“You said ‘the Ajnai’?” he prompted.

Damn it. He’d put her off balance, bringing up Cassidy. No point denying it now. “The Ajnai tree.” Llew wiped her hand across her face, smearing the salty dampness evenly into her skin.

“You found one.” It wasn’t a question. It sounded as though he’d heard exactly what he hoped to get out of her.

Llew watched him, trying to read him. What interest did he have in her tree? After Hisham had told her it was Quavens who had cut down all the other Ajnais, she couldn’t help feeling wary of sharing too much. Especially with this particular Quaven. On that score, she was afraid she’d already said too much.

“Where?”

“In Turhmos.” The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

A flicker of annoyance disrupted Aris’s projected warmth. “No. I mean where exactly.”

“I don’t remember,” she said aloud, although she struggled to keep the ‘I’m not telling you’ out of her narrowing eyes.

Aris watched her a moment more, but she was determined not to break. He didn’t like her because of what she was. She could live with that. They didn’t have to be friends.

“Ah, well. At least we know it’s out there. And we know there is a way for Aenuks to heal Kara. That is good news.” He tapped the table a couple of times, retreating into his own thoughts. He continued into the library, up the stairs and to the shelves the girls had pulled their books from.

Llew supposed it was good news, although she doubted there would be a line of female Aenuks at the border to be impregnated by Quaver’s finest anytime soon.

The fact that news of widespread devastation across Turhmos hadn’t made it across the border didn’t mean there hadn’t been any. With the tiny cut Llew had given herself with Jonas’s knife, she’d left several huge signposts of her progress across the countryside in the form of dead trees and undergrowth. That the news had spread less than her destruction likely meant Turhmos wanted to keep her existence quiet. Too bad for them they had been the last to know.

“You found an Ajnai tree?” Anya’s eyes were bright. “Llew!” She leaned closer to whisper. “Do you know what this means? You could grow them back! Aenuks could be free again.” She sat back in her seat, lost in some Utopian future. “What a shame you don’t remember where it is. We could have sent an emissary to collect cuttings—”

Llew flinched at the word. No one would cut her tree.

“... or seeds,” Anya finished.

With a sidelong glance up at Aris, Llew murmured, “I have seeds. I brought some back.”

Anya punched her in the arm. Well, punch was generous. Tapped, was more like it. Anya tapped her with her fist.

“This is a game-changer, Llew. How could you keep that a secret?”

Llew shrugged. “I kind of forgot about them. I don’t know where I’ll be settling, so I haven’t thought about them since I got back.”

Anya’s face scrunched in a disappointed scowl. “You may not be settling here, but can I have one for my garden? If nothing else, it will remind me of you when you’re gone. Although, you will write, won’t you?”

“Sure, why not?” Llew, only half-listening, was still watching Aris out the corner of her eye. He’d picked out a book and was flipping pages.

Anya grinned. Behind those bright eyes, Llew could see her picturing a world full of Ajnais. A world where Aenuks could walk free and not damage the world around them. Llew could picture it, too. She liked it.

Useless. All useless.

Aris slapped another book closed. Nothing but lies and half-truths. Perhaps he should have been pleased. They were lies and half-truths he had planted, after all. At least Anya and Llew were unlikely to find anything of real consequence, but it didn’t help him.

What was that child going to be? There was the slimmest chance it could be entirely average, not magic at all. More likely, it would be born either Karan or Aenuk, with every chance of possessing the extra power of the Sy varieties, like its parents. But there was one other possibility: it could be an Immortal. What chance there was of that he couldn’t guess. The old Immortals came only from Immortal parents.

And if it was Immortal, what could he do about it? Of one thing he was certain, he wouldn’t be sitting back watching it live his life. Hard enough living nigh on a millennium without the power he used to wield. It was a sorry state, to live so long, powerless, with the memories he had. Bona fide power. Not borrowed, babysat power. Real power, immense power, in his own blood.

He’d spent too long nurturing one half of his power. The half carried by the Syakara. The half most easily controlled.

Aris could think of nothing worse than watching that child grow to wield his powers. And they were his. It was how the Sy varieties of the Aenuks and Kara had been created. His power divided. Now rejoined.

Maybe.

Regardless of what the child was, or could be, Llew was a problem. Already she was interfering with his control over Jonas. Once that child was born, Aris could guess how much harder it would be to keep Jonas in line. Kierra had caused enough trouble, and she had been his idea, and Syakaran. But she had demanded too much, had thought being married to Jonas meant she had some ownership of his time and his bed. Llew would be much, much worse. She already defied Aris, had done right from the start. For now, Aris still held Jonas’s leash. For how much longer? Until the child spawned, if he was lucky. Possibly not even that long. Indeed. Llew was a problem.

There was a knock, and his bedroom door opened a crack. “You wanted to see me, Captain?”

Aris smiled at the sight of his new star pupil. “Yes, Karlani. Come on in.” He turned his chair to face into the room and indicated for her to take the other chair.

She sat, watching him. It wasn’t the hard suspicion Jonas was nurturing. Respectful curiosity, that was it. He liked it – even underneath all the bruising – as much as he liked the deep plummet of her neckline today. The woman wasn’t shy about leaving an extra button or two open. Such flaunting by another woman would have earned scorn, but Karlani oozed dignity. Probably had something to do with her otherwise hard exterior. She was no trained soldier, but she wore her Syakaran power well. She was not a woman to cross.

Aris let her notice him noticing her. Some might think it an odd pairing; a woman in her late twenties and man in his mid-nine-hundreds. Not that he looked a day over fifty. Maybe fifty-two.

“Tell me, Karlani, how you really feel about Jonas.”

Karlani rolled her eyes and chuckled. “You want my honest opinion?”

Aris nodded deeply.

“Jonas is a spoilt man-child who doesn’t take his gift seriously. He has no concept of the privilege bestowed on him and the responsibilities that go along with it. He’s always known he was special, and why, yet he throws it in your face, sleeping with your sworn enemy. His own sworn enemy. He disrespects you. He doesn’t know what it’s like to grow up surrounded by ignorance. Children can be cruel.” She pouted, but it wasn’t entirely genuine. No doubt she had looked after herself just fine from an early age. “I thought I’d never find anyone like me. The men in my village were useless. More interested in proving themselves against me than to me. When I heard about Jonas, I thought my prayers were answered, only to find out he’s shacked up with that … leech.”

“Leech.” Aris smiled. “I like that.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers. “And yet you would bed him for the chance to carry his child?”

“I know the statistics, and while I may rate myself favorably, the world still values the Syakaran male above all. I may not like it, but it’s the world I live in. I will give the world its next hero.”

“What if I told you there was a man more powerful even than Jonas. A man older, wiser, stronger, faster … immortal.”

Karlani cocked her head. He had her attention. “I’d say, ‘Where is this world leader, and why haven’t I met him?’.”

Aris smiled. “I’d like to say that you have, but, while I might not be lying, I could be braggin’ afore my time.” He let his full, charming, Quaven lilt settle in. Flirting. That’s what the kids called it.

Karlani leaned forward in her seat. “Do tell.”

Aris leaned back in his chair, folded his arms. He was about to lay his soul bare to a virtual stranger, but she was probably the only person he would trust with what he had to share. “I have two choices before me, with a range of likely outcomes.”

Karlani nodded. The way she listened made him feel around nine hundred and thirty-six years younger.

“If life works as I think it might, then there is a good chance that leech’s baby might be Immortal.”

Karlani eased back, very much interested, and concerned as she should be.

“Now, I don’t know for sure,” he continued, “so I’m hedging my bets, here. My choices are: I kill the child, or let it live.”

“I have no particular soft spot for it.”

“No. I figured that might be the case. Now, either way, if that child is born, I’ve lost Jonas.”

“Does that matter now I’m here?”

“I have been ponderin’ on that, and it’s a fair question. I don’t mind so much lettin’ him go, but I ain’t so keen on his switching allegiances.”

“Is there any threat of that? He cares for one Aenuk. That doesn’t make him a friend to Turhmos.”

“No, it doesn’t. And if his child should be merely Karan or Aenuk, Sy or not, then there is little to be concerned with. But should this child be Immortal, and I lose any hold I have on Jonas, well, let’s just say I will be looking ahead to an exceedingly long and disappointing life.”

“Just how old are you?”

“Well, now, that ain’t the most polite question to go asking, is it?”

She buttoned her lips, but there was still mirth in her eyes.

“So, the child living isn’t a good idea,” she said. “Killing it won’t be easy, and I don’t fancy facing Jonas in a rage. The way he moves …”

“No. He can be quite the handful, and that’s where I expect to strike trouble. Back in the day, if one Immortal killed another, using the right weapon, he would gain his victim’s powers, becoming that much more powerful. I, myself, racked up a good few kills and wielded quite some power, before it was stolen from me.”

“Stolen? How?”

“An Aenuk, and an Ajnai tree.” Aris sneered. “And from them, the Sy races were born.” He swept an arm out, as if the existence of the now most powerful races was some romanticism.

“Really? My power was once yours? By that logic, I could call you Pa.”

“But you won’t.”

Karlani lowered her eyes at the chastisement before looking up from beneath her brow and letting a cheeky grin light up her face. If he hadn’t had more important things on his mind, Aris might have directed her to his bed there and then. But he did, so he didn’t.

“Fact of the matter is, if I kill this child, I either regain my Immortal powers, in which case all will be right with the world, or I don’t, and Jonas kills me for killing his child. And do you know, I can make peace with that? I would rather die tomorrow than live the next however many hundreds of years I’ve got left watching this child get around with my powers.”

All cheek had fled Karlani, and she nodded, her face sober.

“Now, I have no idea what this child is. Until I lost my powers, there were no Syakara, no Syaenuks. But, for the first time in some nine hundred years, there’s a chance, no matter how small, that I might get my powers back, and I aim to do just that, or die trying.”

“Makes sense,” Karlani whispered, more as an acknowledgeable than to add anything to the conversation.

“I have cogitated the idea of waiting until the child is born, but what do you reckon on the chances that Jonas will leave it unattended?”

“Slim.”

“Slim,” Aris repeated. “But once we get to Quaver, I can have the leech caged, and possibly hold Jonas in custody for his involvement with it, at least for a few days. Am I right in thinking I can count on you to help me with this?”

Karlani shrugged. “I came to perform my duty as a Syakaran.”