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  "First chance I get!" Katie darted out the door, so clearly enjoying her great adventure Kree could only shake his head and chuckle.

  "Why did you say that?" Eldren demanded. "Is Kayseri in danger?"

  "No, elf. It's just something Qets troopers say. It means—well—it means good luck."

  "Why not say ‘good luck’?"

  The elf was obtuse. Chana rolled her eyes at Kree as she went out the door. Eldren’s confusion was so plain; Kree placed a hand on the elf's fine boned shoulder. "I should have, Eldren." He used the same hand to propel the elf prince into the hall with enough force that Eldren crashed into the wall with a satisfying thump.

  A dog that barked at them while its tail wagged was the lone inhabitant of the deserted boardwalk. Kree noticed Kayseri standing beside her mare and threw her a quick admonishing look before he realized that she waited for a leg-up. In the fraction of a second, he wasted fantasizing about her weight in his palm and the touch of her hand on his shoulder, the damn elf prince stepped forward and robbed him. It was probably for the best.

  Kree turned Sirocco’s head in the opposite direction to that taken by the stableman and clicked his tongue, easing his horse into a smooth trot. Kayseri and Eldren trailed out behind. Chana brought up the rear. As soon as they rounded the corner, out of sight of the tavern Kree reigned in. Catching hold of a low roof overhang, he lifted out of the saddle and flipped heels-over-head onto the roof.

  "What are you doing?" Eldren demanded.

  Kree lay flat on his stomach grinning down at the peevish elf. "Playing a hunch." As he crawled up to the ridgepole, he could hear Kayseri and Eldren arguing about something in the alley below. The low buzzing conversation pulled at the edges of his concentration. He slid down a little way, so he could sit up yet stay out of view. Resting his forearms on his knees, he coughed very softly. They glance up, and he made a sharp cutting gesture just below chin level with his thumb. Kayseri covered her mouth with her hands and raised her pretty shoulders a fraction. Her look said, "Oh, sorry." Eldren pursed his lips, his eyes were pale icy blue slits of arrogant impatience, but he remained quiet. Chana gave Kree a look that said plainly, "They're your problem. You deal with them."

  The captain crawled back to the ridgepole. From this vantage point, he could see the livery clearly. The gap-toothed stableman emerged from his shack not five minutes later and entered the barn. Kree grinned as he slid down the roof and dropped onto Sirocco’s back. The horse, unused to such treatment, reared in protest, but his sure hand brought the high-strung stallion under control.

  "What did you see?" Kayseri asked as soon as Kree moved up beside her.

  "Our helpful stableman just went into the barn." He watched her nimble pixie mind work.

  Her eyes widened. "He’s going to warn the squire."

  "That would be my guess."

  "Guess!" Eldren exploded. "Does it not occur to you the man might be going about his work, and you are allowing the real messenger to get away?"

  Kree turned to look into the elf’s too pale eyes, he held on to his temper by a thread, applying years of discipline to do so. Goddess! He loathed the haughty pointy-eared prig. "No. It doesn't. If the real messenger is getting away, I am a prince of Thallasi."

  From the corner of his eye, Kree saw Chana’s lips twitch. To her credit, she smothered her smile with her hand. He changed to a less combative tone. "Third law of campaigning is always go with your gut. My gut has kept me alive in the field for twenty years. I know that does not seem like much to someone like you, but the thing is, Goddess nectar makes a man feel indestructible. Consequently, we Goddess-born fellows tend to be reckless impulsive types. Usually, we don’t get more than a year or two in the field before death gobbles us up.

  "You asked me why troopers say be careful. So I’ll tell you. When I was a lad, my recklessness convinced my father I would not survive my teens. He told me to ‘be careful’ every time I left his sight. He meant, I should use my head for something besides a battering ram, trust my gut, and stay out of other people’s fights. My father said this because wanted me to come home alive. It became a running joke around the garrison, and now we say for luck.

  "Although, I never got the knack of staying out of other people’s fights, which I’m guessing is lucky for you, I did learn to use my head and trust my gut. If you want me to find your princess, you are going to have to trust it too, because I’ll tell you right now, Eldren, I intend to come home alive."

  Eldren did not appear the least convinced by his explanation. The elf’s gaze shifted to Kayseri. "Do you believe this?"

  "Trust him, Eldren. If there is a way to save Sandahl, he will. Has he not said so?"

  Eldren made a sound as near a snort as Kree had ever heard an elf make. Kayseri’s expression became pleading, and something passed between Kayseri and the elf in which Kree had no part. Jealousy burned through him.

  "You think he would give you the moon if you asked it, but I tell to you, Kayseri, the man hates our race."

  Kayseri’s eyebrows arched. She favored the elf with her I smell cauliflower cooking expression.

  "Maybe he just doesn’t like you, Eldren."

  "Nor I him. Nevertheless, I read the truth in his mind."

  Kayseri threw the elf as murderous a look as Kree had ever seen. Whatever the elf was doing, she did not like it.

  "How dare you violate him?"

  "His mind is a maelstrom! I cannot help hearing the roar. The roar mostly concerns you. He alternates between sexual fantasies and self-loathing brought on by those fantasies. He holds that insanity is preferable to you."

  Kayseri pressed her hands to her ears. It was all the incentive Kree needed. A gentle pressure of his knees sent Sirocco crashing into Eldren’s horse. The elf's poor gelding reared in terror, dumping the elf prince on his velvet-clad butt.

  "Your pardon, prince. This beast gets the bit in his teeth sometimes." Making a great show of getting his stallion under control, Kree leaned over and offered Eldren a helping hand.

  The elf rose with the fluid grace of his kind, pointedly ignoring the captain’s outstretched hand. He dusted off his tunic and hauled himself back into the saddle. Kree schooled his face into a study of compassion. Inside he cheered.

  They continued to follow the alley to the end of the block, and then took a left into another alley. This one took them into what had been Tarburg’s carriage district. From there, they had a clear view of the livery. Shortly, the stableman came out of the barn leading a sorrel horse and whistling an off-key tune. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, the man mounted and rode off still whistling his flat little ditty.

  "It appears you may have been right," Eldren said.

  Kree watched the stableman’s slowly diminishing form, not sparing the elf a glance, and whispered, "There’s a surprise."

  "See here. If I can be magnanimous enough to admit when I am in error, you could at least be gracious enough to accept my apology."

  Kree stared the elf full in the eyes, his expression tight-lipped and anything but gracious. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Tense moments passed in which neither elf nor man broke eye contact.

  "My Captain, shouldn’t we follow?" Kayseri's gentle touch on his hand broke the silent challenge.

  His eyes slid to hers. "I want him to have a good lead. Besides, we need some of his sweet feed and oats. I don’t intend to see the horses broken down. Ten minutes later, they left the livery with feed for their horses and a few meager supplies for themselves. They trailed the stableman easily northward toward the mountains.

  In the more open county, Kayseri urged her horse alongside Kree’s mount. He glanced at her quickly and gave her a nod. "Was the elf pulling some kind of magic on you back there?"

  "No."

  He glanced at her again. "Then what was going on between the two of you?"

  Kayseri dropped her gaze to her hands. "Do I have to tell you?"

  "Does it concern the princess?" His voice sounded cold to his o
wn ears. Her eyes widened just a little, she glance away. Damnation! Here comes a lie.

  Kree's gaze slid to her and held, waiting for her to look at him. "Unless it affects my ability to do my job, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to."

  "I don’t want to."

  Her refusal to confide in him sent Kree into silent fury. He should have let her spin a lie for him at least that justified anger, now all he had was raging jealousy.

  Kayseri was the first to break the angry silence.

  "You don’t like Prince Eldren, do you?"

  He turned his head and shot her a cold look. "Don’t have to."

  No one would need to tell Kayseri curt answers were a danger sign. Anyone who knew him knew it. His temper was barely tamped and liable to explode any second. Further conversation with him on this or any other subject was unwelcome.

  Disregarding the warning signs, Kayseri pushed on. "Why not?"

  In spite of his bad throat, or maybe because of it, Kree excelled at mimicry. He affected Eldren’s haughty sharp accent. "He is a prince of Thallasi. Do I need another reason?"

  The censure under his mocking tone shocked her, and she recalled Eldren’s words. The man hates our race. "So is my father."

  Kree’s language changed, became that of the coarsest foot-solider. "Horse shit!" His eyes, fierce as twin jade dragons, met hers, but his voice was breathy, soft, almost gentle. "Your father is a man, little girl, a round-ear just like me. Thallasi had no use for him when he needed them, and if they claim him now, it’s because they covet his glory not because he is a quarter-elf. Heaven knows they haven’t had any glory of their own in the last several millennia."

  He jerked his head in Eldren’s direction. "He thinks because elves live for thousands of years it somehow makes them superior to mere humans. But I don’t see it. I am only four and thirty, and I’ve done more to affect the world I live in than most elves ever do. Look at him. His big mission in life is to deliver a little girl into a marriage she probably doesn’t want, to a male she has never met, and he can’t even do that without my help. By Namar’s sweet breath, little girl, I’ve never met one of the pointy-eared snobs I’d give you two copper ladies for and that is a solid fact."

  While he joined Chana to inspect the trail ahead, Kayseri adjusted the dark curls concealing her own pointy ears. "Why is My Captain bothering to help him?"

  Kree straightened slowly, turned, and looked at her. "Now, you didn’t give me much choice about that did you?" His temper sparked again. He wiped his hand on his britches and expelled a long breath. "Because children are children, and no one has the right to hurt a child. Not on my watch. Not in my territory. And because it’s politically expedient." He swung back into the saddle.

  "You’re looking a little wrung out." Kree ran the knuckles of his right hand along the curve of her cheek. His touch was so tender she almost burst into tears. "Hold on just a little while longer, and then you can take a bubble bath and sleep for a week."

  Chapter Seven

  Directly overhead twin suns beat down on Kree's party. Wiping his forehead on his arm, he stole a glance at his Wilderkin companions. Kayseri and Eldren had their heads bent close, one midnight dark and the other moonlight pale. They were doing it again, that thing they did, that thing so precious Kayseri would not speak of it to him. She had picked Eldren over him time after time since the elf arrived on the scene. He should be happy. It solved all his Kayseri problems, but by Namar's bloody tears, he wanted her to pick him. This made him feel foolish and it made him angry. For reasons the captain did not want to examine, he found himself awash in reckless raging white-hot fury for which he had no outlet. He did not even know with whom he was angrier. Eldren. Kayseri. Himself. He was pathetic.

  His craving for Goddess nectar screamed through his veins louder than it had in years. Three drops of that golden elixir and he’d be flying high, mind and body humming with sharp clear singularity of purpose. Just three drops and he would feel the sharp fighting edge he remembered so well, an edge that for all his skill, he knew he lacked without it.

  Deprivation burned through every pore, evoking a memory so sweet, he reached into his kit for the little vial he kept there. A token, he told himself, kept as a symbol of his freedom. This was a lie. He kept his Goddess nectar because one day his own strength would not be enough to save those he loved. Kree heaved a sigh. Today was not that day. He would not become Goddess bound again when all he needed was a little self-discipline. Kree slipped the tiny vial back into his kit, and kicked up his pace, bringing Sirocco to a canter.

  Where the trail forked to the left, he stopped to allow the others to come abreast. A small stone and timber cottage stood about fifty-five yards in the distance. The stableman’s sorrel horse grazed in the paddock, and an enclosed carriage waited beneath the branches of the lone shade tree near the front door. A low holly berry hedge ran from the paddock to the house. Otherwise, the approach was open all the way to a thin stand of trees bordering the road on the far side. One look at the elf’s anxious face, told Kree the elf princess was inside.

  "It’s a sweet setup," Kree remarked to Chana, since she was the only one who could appreciate it. The sister nodded.

  Kayseri asked, "My Captain, if you want me to I could use mischief to scoot down the hedge row and look inside."

  What a stupid idea? "You know I don’t."

  "But it will help, and no one else can do it."

  He hated it when pixies got logical. "All right, sweetheart. We’ll come around and meet you in those trees over there. I need to know the layout, who is guarding the princess, and how the guards are armed. Can you remember that?"

  "Yes, My Captain."

  Recalling another occasion when he and Lathan gave a similar job to a pixie, Kree had his doubts. "Repeat it."

  Kayseri rolled her eyes, obviously thinking him dull-witted. "You want to know what the cottage is like inside. You want to know the princess's location. You want to know how many people are in there with her, and what kind of weapons they have."

  Kree grinned. He had underestimated Kayseri again. He should know better by now. "Get going, little girl. We’ll give you to a hundred count."

  Kayseri slid out of her saddle and handed Eldren her reins. She looked up at the captain. "Do you want anything else?"

  You. Kree caught his lower lip between his teeth. "Just be careful."

  She beamed at him, looking happy for the first time since they left Tarburg. "First chance I get!" Calling up mischief, Kayseri vanished. The tickle of pixie mischief whispered along Kree's skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. He rubbed his arm.

  He and the others skirted around the cottage to the opposite stand of trees. While they waited, he tied a strip of cloth around his head to keep sweat from dripping into his eyes, and worked a tight fitting pair of fingerless gloves onto his hands. Using his teeth and free hand, he tied the four eyelets, lacing them tight at his wrists.

  Eldren whispered, "What is our next move?"

  Kree glanced at the elf. "I don’t know. What spells do you have besides that fire ball?"

  "My weak magic is purely defensive."

  "It wasn’t really all that effective, was it?" Kree shook his head. Personalities aside, he and Eldren needed to work together for the princess's sake. Hell, maybe for the sake of peace between humans and elves. "Your pardon, Prince Eldren, I can be an arse sometimes. How are you with a sword?"

  The elf prince shrugged his fine-boned shoulders. "Compared to you? Worthless."

  The captain studied the long expanse of open ground sloping up to the stone cottage. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that."

  "My Captain."

  Kayseri appeared at Kree's side. He heard her voice. He felt a crawly sensation on his skin, and then she was there.

  "There’s only one room and not much furniture, a table and two chairs." Kayseri pulled herself back into the saddle. "The princess is in the center of the room."

  "Is Sandahl
unharmed?" Eldren pushed at her mind.

  "There are four men. The stableman, a man dressed as a Templeman, he has five braids, a tall weird looking elf, and a fat man in a fancy suit."

  Kree nodded, impressed in spite of his misgivings, especially by the braid detail. "Which ones are guarding the princess?"

  "The elf and the Templeman, My Captain, have the poor thing in a cage."

  Eldren made a strangling sound in his throat, and Kayseri finally looked at him. "It does not look as if she’s been hurt."

  The elf stared hard at the cottage. "You must take care, Captain. This Nhurstari is likely an enchanter."

  "Did you notice a back door, Katie?" When she nodded, Kree turned to Eldren. "I want you to go around to the back and hit the door with the biggest fire ball you’ve got."

  "But Sandahl—"

  Kree raised his hand cutting Eldren off. "The biggest one you’ve got, Eldren, or I swear by my Goddess, I’ll kill you myself. The diversion will cover our advance across all this beautiful wide-open space. I want enough fire and smoke to send some of them out to us. I want a big one, Eldren. Do you understand me? A big one."

  "May I warn my princess?"

  "How would you do that?"

  "By telepathy of course."

  Of course. The secret thing was mischief and magic after all. Kree narrowed his eyes at Kayseri. She was making a habit of lying to him. "Sure, Eldren, but do it just before you cast. We don’t want her reaction tipping them off."

  The captain dismounted, adjusted the bastard sword on his back, and removed a large axe from one of the many loops and straps, which attached weapons to his wide saddle skirt.

  "Katie, once we have the princess, bring the horses up as fast as you can. Chana, take out the mercenary. I’ll take the mage."

  They advanced together to a point just inside the thin tree line and stopped, waiting for Eldren’s diversionary action. Chana drew her sword, looping the sword knot over her wrist. Holding the blade before her with her hands in a prayerful position, eyes closed, she centered herself for battle.