Willing Sacrifice
Page 63

 Shannon K. Butcher

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“We can travel to the northern village, but the outcome would be the same. You must destroy the stone.”
“Give me the crystals and tell me how to use them.”
“Using them is simple. Surviving their use will take more skill.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There will be magical backlash when the crystals are activated.”
“What kind of backlash?”
“The deadly kind. If you can see the crystals’ blue fire, you are already too late. It will destroy all in its reach.”
“You’re telling me those crystals put off magical radiation?”
She frowned a second before nodding. “Yes.”
“Okay. So what kind of skill is needed to avoid this unpleasantness?”
“Speed. Timing. You must be away from the area before the explosion occurs.”
“I don’t suppose you have some kind of long fuse, do you?”
“No. Any lengthy delays would give the Warden time to react. This would be a bad thing.”
He instantly started thinking about the Masons’ building site and the distance between the stone and the Warden. There were only a few yards—a distance the Warden could cross in a matter of seconds. That was assuming the Warden stayed at its current guard post. “I’m going to need a distraction.”
A frown pulled at Brenya’s wrinkles. “Indeed. I will provide this. Give me the night to do so.”
“What do you have in mind?”
She ignored his question. “Get yourself food and rest. You will need it for what is to come.”
•   •   •
Grace was neck-deep in a hot bath when Brenya walked in. She was stooped over, moving slowly, as if even a hard step would crush her brittle bones. She looked old, fragile.
Grace’s heart gave a sharp squeeze as she realized that even Brenya wasn’t invincible.
“You’ve pushed yourself too hard,” said Grace.
“I do only what I must, child.” Brenya eased onto the bench next to Grace’s clothes. “Your warrior seemed upset. You scared him again.” It wasn’t a question.
“He lied to me. So did you.”
“Hidden truths, not lies.”
“Same thing.”
“Do you think I would choose to hurt you? That my acts hold malice?”
“Just because you don’t mean to hurt me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“Convoluted logic. Very human.”
“Well, I am human.”
“Yes. And I should not hold you responsible for a mistake of your birth.”
The unintentional jab hurt as much as the rest. Maybe all humans were as sensitive as Grace was, or maybe she was just a wimp. “Why are you here?”
“I sensed your injuries.”
Grace knew better than to ask how. The woman wouldn’t answer. “I’m fine. It’s nothing serious. Save your strength.”
“I also thought you might need to talk.”
“About what?”
“You shared your body with a man you believe lied to you.”
“I don’t know how you know what we did, but I don’t just believe he lied—I know it.”
“Do you?”
“You should know, too. You forced him to lie.”
“Pretend is a more accurate word, but I see how you could be confused.”
Grace stifled a scream of frustration. “Look, I love you like a mother, but you don’t get to decide how I should feel. You and Torr conspired to hide things from me. You even went so far as to force a vow from him. I’m not okay with any of that.”
“Some things are better left forgotten, child.”
Grace’s voice dropped so close to a growl, it shocked her. “I’m not a child, and I’m sick of hearing you say that. It’s my life. I have a right to know what was in it. I have a right to my memories.”
“Forgive Torr. He had no choice. I knew his weak spot and used it against him in a way that ensured he could deny me nothing.”
“That man doesn’t have a weak spot.”
“Yes, he does. You, child, are it.”
She groaned and let her head fall back on the wooden rim of the tub. “Great. Now not only am I weak, but I make those around me the same way.”
Brenya’s tone was one of irritation and warning. “Cease your self-pity. You have what women all over the universe can only wish for.”
“What’s that?”
“A man who would do anything for you.”
“You’re wrong. I wanted to help him, but all he could think about was getting me back here, like some kind of naughty child sent to her room.”
“Theronai males are protective creatures by nature—a trait on which I am depending.”
Oh, no. Grace knew that tone. Devious, cunning, scheming. “What are you planning?”
“Victory.”
Grace climbed out of the water, desperate to find out what she could so she could warn Torr. She grabbed Brenya’s arm—something she never would have done two days ago. “Tell me what you’re going to make him do.”
Brenya covered her hand, and the hot tingle of healing raced over Grace’s skin, erasing all the nicks and cuts she’d suffered.
The older woman bowed slightly for a second before straightening. “You have no need for concern, child. All will be as it is meant to be.”
“What does that mean?”
“You will see,” said Brenya. Then she walked away, leaving Grace dripping and cold.
Chapter 27
Grace burst through the door of the hut where Torr was changing. Her dark hair was dripping wet, her face pale and drawn with fear.
He dropped the loose pants that one of the village women had made for him, and drew his sword. “What’s wrong?”
Grace came to a dead stop. “Wrong?” she asked, staring at his naked groin.
The door swung shut behind her, darkening the room. The little bit of orange light filtering through the rough thatch walls was enough for him to see her pupils flare. His animal brain took that as a sign that she liked what she saw, rather than that the room had suddenly gone dark.
A telltale tingle of arousal swept through him, but he choked it dead before it could take over.
“Yes, wrong. You stormed in here like demons were nipping at your heels. What happened?”