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  At her side, Kree went through his own pre-battle ritual, drawing air into his lungs through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth, purging fear with every breath. Here was another chance to beat death. Goddess help him, he loved it. He swung the axe, side to side loosening his muscles, getting the feel of the weapon.

  "Are you sure you can kill the mage with that?" Chana kept her eyes closed.

  Kree exhaled. "That's the theory."

  The swordswoman cracked her eyes open and slanted a glance at him. "Theory?"

  Swish. Swish. Kree took another big breath. In. Out.

  "It’s all in the timing. Will he give away his cast? I’m sensitive to most magic, so maybe. Will I have enough time to counter if he doesn’t? No way to know. It’s...exciting."

  "Ah."

  Inhale. Exhale. "This axe head is made from lodestone. Theoretically, it will disrupt magic. Guess we'll know for sure in a minute." Inhale. Exhale. Swish. Swish. "I'm feeling...confident."

  "Audacity. Well, that’s what counts." Chana closed her eyes again. "Be careful."

  "First chance I get."

  There was nothing weak about Eldren’s magic. When it came, the fireball lit up the sky like a third sun resulting in a deafening explosion. Together they sprinted across the open ground reaching the front door just as the stableman burst through. Chana's stop thrust dropped the gap-toothed fool before he’d taken two steps. The fat squire came next, tripping over his man. Advancing on the run, laughing like a lunatic, Kree swung the axe resulting in a solid satisfying thud. The squire fell, split from clavicle to sternum. That left the mercenary and the mage, even odds.

  Smoke swirled through the interior pouring in from the rear of the cottage. The hired man wearing Temple braids rushed them. He darted around Chana, shouting, "I want the champion!"

  Chana's steel rang against his. "Life is just full of little disappointments."

  Kree sized up the Nhurstari magic user. The elf crouched beside the cage, working on the lock. He kept darting glances over his shoulder. Smoke stung Kree's eyes and burned his lungs like demons. In the next few minutes he might die. He was euphoric. "Stand away, Nhurstari."

  Abandoning his task for the moment, the Nhurstari stood, turning slowly. The smoke did not affect him overmuch which was not good for Kree. He had inhuman yellow eyes, cat's eyes, and he was tall, maybe an inch or two taller than Kree, putting him somewhere close to seven foot. His challenging smile showed too many sharp white teeth. So this is what they look like when they're not dead.

  "You foolish, interfering round-ear, what does this business have to do with you or your kind? Where is that idiot Thallasi? I smell the taint of his inept casting."

  Inept? He blew out the whole rear of the building. Kree could not smell Eldren's magic, but it crawled all over him. So much residual magic in the air meant he did not have a hope in hell of sensing this elf's cast. The axe would never be his weapon of choice, but he had trained with it and he had the physique to wield it. Axes required momentum much like his cavalry saber. One did not just chop with it. Kree swung it in wide arcs storing energy with every swing. His eyes fixed on the Nhurstari hoping he could read the elf’s body language.

  "What is this toy you challenge me with?" For all his condescending taunts, the Nhurstari’s eyes narrow. The elf sensed danger right enough. He edged around the cage trying to put it between them. Kree could not allow that. He advanced with careful measured steps, cutting off the elf’s retreat. His eyes never left the mage.

  The Nhurstari made a sweeping arc with one hand as if grabbing something out of the air. The elf had fast hands. Kree had fast reflexes. He charged, swinging the axe at the elf’s head. His cross-sweep met the cast, slashing through a viscous magical ball. The magic burst apart, but the splatter hit Kree’s shoulder, neck and biceps. The expression on the mage's face as he ducked under the axe, told Kree the casting had not perform as expected. They hardly ever did, seeing as Kree was drenched in Temple enchantment.

  The magical splatter from the elf’s failed casting pierced like icicle spears along Kree’s skin. Numbing cold shot down his arm. Hells bells! What the spell was supposed to do? Then the elf cast again, and Kree concentrated on his grip. The fingers on his right hand were numb, but somehow he kept the axe in motion. The next casting ricocheted off the spinning blade, slammed into the wall, melting the stone.

  The Nhurstari cursed him. Kree did not understand his language, but his tone was universal. The elf pulled a knife from the folds of his robe. A knife against an axe, one could not ask for better odds. Just as Kree's axe reached the top of its arc, the elf lunged, a blur of motion. Kree sidestepped, and the razor sharp blade stung his ribs. The axe swung around, and his cold numb fingers lost their grip. Namar's tears! The weapon flew out of his hands propelled by stored momentum, and hit the elf with the dull thunk of a butcher's cleaver. The elf’s head bounced off the far wall. The axe skittered across the floor.

  Coughing on the smoke, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side, Kree retrieved his weapon. He was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. He nudged the Nhurstari's body with his booted toe. "Huh, it worked." he said through lips fast going numb. One solid hit broke the lock free, and Kree hefted the princess against his shoulder sheltering her as best he could from the smoke and the gore.

  He heard Chana taunting the hired man. "Five braids and this is the best you’ve got? You expected to fight My Captain?"

  He turned toward the door cradling the princess to his side. "Stop playing with that fellow." He coughed. "We've got to get out of here."

  "Such a waste, My Captain." Chana knocking the mercenary’s blade aside with a sweeping motion and blasted thirty-five inches of deadly Elharan steel into the man’s chest. She jerked the blade free as he fell, wiping it on the dead man's tunic. "He had potential."

  Chapter Eight

  Kree stumbled from the burning cottage into the sweet clean air. His lungs purged themselves in a coughing fit that drove him to his knees. For a few heartbeats he knelt in front of the cottage, his numb right hand dragged the axe.

  Kayseri ran to him. "Bright mercy! My Captain, you're bleeding."

  It's what soldiers do. "Scratch." His voice sounded funny to his ears, funnier than usual. He tried to smile. Judging from the alarm on Katie's face, he must have fallen short. She pried the axe out of his grip. Kree turned his attention to the princess. "Deep breaths." His speech slurred. The biting cold rendering his sword arm as good as dead had spread into his cheek. He pushed himself to his feet and carried the princess to a watering trough next to the paddock. Seating the elf girl on the edge, he fumbled a handkerchief out of his pocket with his left hand, wet it, and covered her nose and mouth. He tried to say "deep breaths." It sounded like, "Dep befs." His tongue was thick, fuzzy. He could not form the words. His mouth worked, but nothing came out. Then, Eldren snatched the girl away.

  The captain slumped against the trough, his lips numb, his tongue choking off his air. His fog-clouded brain urged him to get the gooey stuff off his skin. He pulled a short knife out of his arming harness and scraped at his shoulder until Kayseri knelt beside him and pried the knife from his hand. He attempted to push her away not wanting her near this ugly magic, but he couldn’t do anything except blink.

  "Let me help you." Kayseri kissed his forehead."

  Dizzy, he had just enough time to think, she picked me, before he passed out.

  Kree heard soft chanting in the darkness. He did not recognize the words, but the sound called him. He chased it, struggling to catch the words, and the darkness receded bit by bit. He opened his eyes to an azure sky. He was lying on the ground with his head cradled in Kayseri’s lap. Her cheeks were wet. Her hand rested on his chest. It felt so right Kree brought his left hand up trapping hers. "Don’t cry," he whispered. "Smile for me, Katie."

  Somewhere close by something burned.

  Sister Chana’s face appeared over him. "Blessed Goddess! He’s coming out of it."

/>   Memory rushed in. Kree tried to rise, made it as far as his elbows and sank back. He was weak. His tingling right arm refused to support his weight.

  "Chana, get the girls onto Katie’s horse. We’ve got to get out of here." Again, Kree made to rise, this time he reached his knees.

  Eldren's face came into his field of vision. "You should have died. It was a vile casting."

  On hands and knees, Kree crawled toward his horse. "Magic never works right on me, but this time it came close. Whatever you did, I owe you."

  "I peeled off his casting." The prince shuddered, lifted his shoulders. "You should rest until your strength returns."

  "No time to rest. A big fire like this is bound to draw a crowd, probably not a friendly one, and I couldn’t fight a kitten right now. I’m not even sure I can run away, but run is what we’re going to do." Kree reached for his stirrup, tried to pull himself to his feet, but Sirocco danced away dragging him a couple of feet before Chana caught the animal’s head. The captain made another unsuccessful attempt to pull himself up by the stirrup.

  "For Goddess sake, Eldren" Chana shouted. "Help him mount."

  Once he got the captain’s boot in the stirrup, Eldren used a combination of steadying and pushing to boost the much bigger human into the saddle.

  "Thank you for my life, Eldren."

  The elf lifted his thin shoulders again. "You have your life. I have my princess. We are even."

  "Not even close."

  Chana came to Kree’s side still holding Sirocco’s reins. She studied him a minute as he swayed in the saddle. "Are you going to stick in that saddle?"

  Kree leaned forward, resting his upper body along his horse’s neck, and wrapped his arms around its neck locking his good hand around his right wrist. "Yeah. I’m good. Let's move."

  Chana nodded. "I’ll take rear guard. Kayseri, lead My Captain's horse."

  They galloped single file. Eldren led them north toward what Kree considered the Nhurstari Mountain. There was something wrong with the mountain. It looked...well that was the problem; Kree could barely look at it. His eyes sort of shied away. Sparsely wooded rolling foothills rapidly gave way to steeper going. After the first mile or two, Eldren slowed the pace sparing the horses. The pine forest thickened, green foliage filtered out the worse of the oppressive sun beating down upon their heads, baking the pale skinned elves.

  By mid-afternoon Kree had recovered enough to resume command. His first action was to call a rest beside a sparkling brook. Kree watered their horses while his exhausted company collapsed gratefully onto the cool grass. Concerned as he had been with his own weakness, he took this opportunity to take stock of his companions. Sister Chana sat with her forearms resting on her knees, her back propped against a tree trunk grabbing a little rest like the veteran she was. But his beautiful pixie flower looked decidedly wilted, and his elves—his elves looked fit to die on the spot, especially the little princess. Sun blistered her skin nearly scarlet and baked the life out of her. She lay against Eldren’s chest as glassy-eyed and lifeless as the stupid doll clutched in her hand.

  Still favoring his right arm, Kree dug out the bread, cheese, and ham he had saved from the morning and handed the food to Kayseri. "Share this with Eldren and the princess." It was little enough to lift their spirits, but it was all he had.

  "But what about you and the sister aren't you hungry?"

  "Don’t worry about us." He hoped Katie did not hear his stomach rumble. "We’ll find a safe place to layover, and hunt something." He noticed Chana opened her eyes when Kayseri mentioned her name. Now she closed them again.

  Leaving his charges to enjoy their meal, Kree untied the rain slicker he kept behind his saddle, and cut two large squares out near the bottom. He brought these, along with his field kit over to the princess. The elf girl raised listless blue eyes to him and smiled.

  "I have forgotten my manners." Sandahl tottered to her feet. "Thank you for my freedom Captain Kree Fawr, Goddess-born Gryphon of Qets Garrison. Thallasi is much in your debt."

  This same regal dignity in Eldren would have made Kree furious, but in Sandahl, it humbled him. He hunkered down to her level. "I have ointment that will ease your pain. It does not smell very good," he gave her a wink, "that's how we know it works. Will you allow me to touch you?"

  She dimpled. It looked painful. "Yes, please."

  Kree scooped a dollop of buttery looking goop onto his fingertip and dabbed it onto her shiny upturned nose. She winced. Her breath hissed between her teeth. Kree pulled his hand away, and glanced at Kayseri. "This business needs a gentler hand, Katie. Would you–" His words cut off as the princess captured his large calloused hand between her small soft ones.

  "You have not hurt me. Although we have just met, I do not believe you ever would." She released his hand, raised her face. "You may continue."

  Kree gently dabbed salve across her right cheek, smoothing it in with quick light strokes.

  "Captain Kree Fawr, Goddess-born Gryphon of Qets Garrison is a great mouthful to say."

  Kree gave the princess a crooked smile. "I suppose it is, but folks don’t call me that most of the time. Just like your people don’t call you Sandahl Sara el Thallasi, Daughter heir of the First House, every time they speak to you." She laughed. It was a lovely sound. Children should laugh. Often. Even little serious children like this one. "Well, do they?"

  "They do not. Your given name is Kree?" Sandahl caught her lower lip between her teeth as he applied the salve to her other cheek.

  "It is."

  "It is an unusual name. Is it dwarfish?"

  Kree paused in his ministrations long enough to tilt his head back and look down his nose at the princess. Kayseri giggled, but hid her amusement in her hands when his gaze slid in her direction.

  "Kree is my sire’s maternal family name." Kree's mind drifted to a distant childhood memory. As Goddess-born, he had no family names, so his sire had given him two. "My papa thought it a very clever name for his Goddess-born son."

  "Then I shall call you Kree, if you do not think it disrespectful."

  "I think it’s just fine." Kree wiped his fingers on his britches, and settled a makeshift bonnet fashioned from one the squares of cloth on Sandahl’s silvery-blond head. He handed Eldren the other square and the ointment. He was about to leave them to it when the little elf girl caught his hand again.

  "And you must call me Sandahl."

  He made a slight bow as he extracted his hand from hers. "I’ll try to remember that, Princess."

  Kayseri watched the captain walk toward the horses. Sunlight picked up the coppery highlights in his dark red hair. His movements were awkward and he rubbed his right arm vigorously as he went. Clearly, he still suffered some effects from the Nhurstari spell, yet he did not complain. It was so typically Kree.

  He was exhausted. She could tell by the way his shoulders slumped just a bit, which was not typical. His posture was never less than perfect, but instead of resting as they all were, he fiddled with her horse, running his hand over its hindquarters, talking to it, making little reassuring clucking noises in his throat. It was foolish to hold on to her dreams. Her mischief had nearly gotten the man she loved killed. What sort of love was that? But her dreams were hard to give up. She had loved Kree for so long and never had he seemed more loveable than now when he was so tired and hurting. Finally, he sat down in a shady spot near the edge of the little run, not far from where Sister Chana leaned against a tree and began working the muscles in his right arm with his left hand. Kayseri drifted over.

  She took his arm between her palms over a token protest and massaged his biceps. While her fingers worked his arm, he watched her with a fierce intensity that made her heart race.

  "You were wonderful with Sandahl earlier," Kayseri murmured when she could find her voice. "If you aren’t careful, people will learn the truth about you."

  Sister Chana made a noise that sounded like pifft. It caused Kree’s half-smile to appear briefly. He smoothed ba
ck an errant lock of Kayseri’s hair letting his hand linger at the nape of her neck. His tired voice whispered, "What truth is that, darling?"

  Kayseri’s breath caught in her throat. Did she see desire in his jade-colored gaze? "You’re a soft touch for any weak thing. The hard-eyed monster you pretend you to be is not who you are."

  "Yes, it is." He winked. "I am the monster Elhar sends to catch monsters." Kree nimbly touched the fingertips of his right hand with his right thumb. "I couldn’t do that an hour ago." His crooked smile appeared. He touched the tip of Kayseri's nose. "There is nothing weak about Princess Sandahl."

  The way his gaze seared her skin made Kayseri’s stomach flutter. She wished he would not look at her that way, and she wished he would never stop. "You like Sandahl,"

  "Does this surprise you? Being born to duty and obligation is something I relate to. We're sort of kindred spirits, the little princess and I."

  Kayseri tilted her head and arched one eyebrow. "But Sandahl is an elf."

  "So she is." Kree dropped his hot gaze. His hand that moments before had warmed her neck, now lay flat on the ground supporting his weight. He leaned forward. His lips grazed her temple. "A hit. Acknowledged." He teased.

  "And Prince Eldren? Do you like him better since he saved your life?"

  "I expect it benefited his cause a little." He flashed that grin again. "But I don’t like him less."

  Something behind her snagged his attention. His body tensed. He sprang to his feet dragging Kayseri with him. "Chana! Eldren! To horse." Kree ran across the clearing and practically tossed Kayseri onto her mare's back. "Move! We’re about to have some company."

  The elf lord snatched up his princess and ran for his horse, but the captain plucked Sandahl from Eldren’s arms, and settled her behind Kayseri. A sharp slap to the mare’s hump sent the girls away at a gallop. Eldren mounted and rode after them, his poor beast already falling far behind.

  "Chana, stay with my Wilderkin, no matter what happens. That’s an order. Go! Go!" Kree swung onto Sirocco’s back. "I'll get a look at what we’re up against, and come right behind you." The big desert-bred stallion caught Kree's agitation. It tossed its head, danced impatiently.