Bloodlust (11 page)

They marched on for an hour before Lukor insisted they rest.

"If not for your sake, then for mine." Even his body needed sleep to refuel. Few goliaths could outlast him. His endurance, his strength — Lucia had compared him to a barbarian during their youth. She'd meant it as a compliment. How naive she had been then. Never outgrew it. Running off to explore constantly. Their mother had always feared it would be the end of her. And it had.

Not bothering to see if the barbarian stopped, Lukor rested his head on top of a holly maple's root and closed his eyes. Visions of his sister's bloodied body haunted him in his dreams. Only when he rolled her over, he saw Ivy's ashen face. A harsh sorrow filled him at the sight — not the giddy happiness he expected. Ivy clutched a white cloth with a ring of dead roses surrounding a skull embroidered upon it. The trolls' emblem.

A sound behind him forced Lukor to whirl around. Without thought, he launched his axe into the air. Double blades over handle, it twirled and landed within Ivy's killer.

Only the axe embedded itself into Lucia. A shocked expression crossed her face. Blood trickled out of the corner of her lips. Swaying on her feet, she collapsed, falling on top of Ivy, even though she'd been feet away from the dead barbarian a moment prior.

Lukor opened his mouth to let out a fierce bellow. A vulture flew out of his mouth and encircled the dead women. It cawed, its eyes glowing, daunting Lukor, but he ignored the bird and sank beside his sister and Ivy.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured over and over until his voice failed him.

His sister's body rolled toward him. At first he thought she still lived, but it was Ivy who opened her eyes. Her hand touched his cheek. His heart raced. She leaned closer. He did not back away.

"Lukor. Lukor!"

He opened his eyes and woke up with a start. His cheek was stinging. Ivy's hand was raised.

"Did you smack me?" His hand reached for his knife.

"You were screaming." She crossed her arms and moved her head with attitude. "Mares of the night plaguing you?"

"Leave me be." He closed his eyes again and returned to slumber. This time, he dreamt of nothing important and woke strangely cold, as if missing something.

Sleep eluded Ivy for a long time. Eventually slumber did greet her, but only after she'd woken Lukor to stop his thrashing about. His wails had pierced her heart. Something vicious was attacking him. No wonder she couldn't rest with him being so loud.

But that had not been the only reason why she had waken him. For one, the slap had been quite satisfying, only she had felt strangely guilty over it. Not that he hadn't deserved it for leaving her to the souls within the Realm. For another, she knew what it was like to be tormented by nightmares. A foreign emotion swept over her. Empathy? What a horrid feeling.

Grayness all around her, the pain returned. She woke with a gasp and promptly fell back asleep. This time, she remembered none of the dream, but her stomach pained her. Lukor still slept as she armed herself, intent on finding herself a large meal. Before she could determine which direction to take, a falcor soared through the sky. The female bird landed on her outstretched hand.

"Have you a message for me?" she whispered as she plucked at the bird's long, blue-green feathers. Unlike the ruthless trolls, barbarians did not force their messages inside a bird's stomach, ensuring its death upon reaching its intended person. Barbarians, instead, bent the firm feathers this way and that to deliver their message.

From Angar. Wanting to know where she was, if she was all right.

As if he cares.

Anger seized her, and she snapped the bird's neck. It was the only way for Angar to not learn she had received the message. She hated the guard, the backstabber. If he had the chance, he would do anything to keep her from the throne.

Seeing no need to waste the dead bird, Ivy ripped it open and proceeded to eat it raw.

"That's barbaric."

She glared at Lukor. When had he woken? Not caring for his tone, she threw an already picked clean bone at him.

He plucked it out of the air and ate it. His eyes glittered. "I can handle anything you throw my way."

Her lips curled into a half-smirk, half-smile. "Is that a challenge?"

Lukor grinned. "A promise."

"All the races fear barbarians." She eyed him, almost annoyed, almost pleased. Everything about his stature — relaxed and confident — as he stood leaning against the tree suggested he did not fear her.

Within minutes, he disarmed himself and stalked toward her. His thumb brushed against her lips before disappearing within his mouth. He'd cleaned blood from her. Her body warmed at the contact, and she wished he would touch her again.

What was she thinking? Perhaps she should not have denied herself male company for so long and chosen a husband before this, as both of her parents had berated her about for years. She knew nothing about love or romance, but clearly her body was merely craving attention of a different sort. Not Lukor specifically. Surely any male would make her feel the same.

She shoved the rest of the bird into his hand. "Eat up. We must keep on. Another sun fall until we reach the Rocks of Breakingham."

"Perhaps sooner, if we make good timing." Yet, he ate slowly, savoring, indulging, taking his time.

To spite her, she felt certain, and so she snapped, "I guess those mares heightened your appetite."

"I guess now it is my turn to thank you." He tossed feathers onto the ground; all that remained of the falcor. Majestic, larger than most birds with huge eyes, falcors were the only birds that seemed not to fear barbarians. Many animals fled from them, as if knowing instinctively how bloodthirsty they were.

"Thank me?" Ivy receded as Lukor advanced toward her. She stopped only when her back slammed against another tree.

His body pressed against hers, his lips inches from hers. Ivy closed her eyes and waited. And waited. And waited.

Her eyes flew open to see him walking toward his weapons.

She rushed over to him and shoved his knife into his hand, nicking his palm with the blade. He didn't flinch, but in that moment, her fingers brushed against his pulse. Far faster than normal. He was affected by her, but who knew if it was the same as she? And she did not truly want him.
Of course not.

Her skirt swirling around her legs, she marched on without looking back. They did not stop for a midday meal or for any other reason. Only once the Rocks came into view, shortly before the violet sun disappeared for the night, did Ivy's pace slow.

A massive orange mountain range carved out of stone stretched before them. Snow capped the top of some of the pinnacles. Clouds hid others from view. Wind erosion had scarcely etched the facade. None of the caves the dwarves had dug were visible.

Ivy stared at Lukor. "Well?"

His green eyes pierced her, and she looked away. "We should wait for the morning's light."

"But we finally reached our destination. Who are we meeting? Don't you want my shield?" She thrust it toward him.

He accepted it warily. "In this poor lighting, we run the risk of entering the wrong cave and becoming lost in the caverns. Do you want to chance it?"

Her fingers curled around the hilt of her sword. "Why do I get the feeling you are stalling? For all I know, you are setting up an ambush and plan to kill me the first chance you get. Word of my death would ensure war between our races."
And pave the way for a new race to rise up in our stead.
Ivy shuddered. The elf had been so certain of the barbarians' downfall...

"You have that much trust in me?"

Her lips twisted into a smile.
Say something charming.
"I trust you want me and my race dead that much."

The probability of successfully seducing him had been highly unlikely. It was too hard for her to still her tongue and not speak her mind. As the barbarian-princess, she never had to mind her words. Why bother to start now? Although touching him had not been entirely unpleasant... when she breathed through her mouth.

To her surprise, he laughed. This time, unlike several others, his gaze was not on her though, and his eyes hardened. He was not jesting.

Another shudder traveled throughout her body. She must try harder to change his mind about her race. Ivy stepped forward and thrust the shield into his hand.

His fingers traced the outer rim before stroking the protruding spike. "Why did you give this to me?"

He might still try to seduce her, but she would not degrade herself in that matter any longer. "I do trust you," she admitted. "You promised to take me to someone who can decipher the messages in exchange for my shield. Now you have the shield in your possession, you must deliver me to that person."

"How do you know I won't just bolt now that your shield is mine?"

Her fingers tapped the silverbow on her back.

His eyes lit up, matching his smile, and he held up the shield.

"It's not large enough to protect your head, back, and legs," she said pointedly.

"True." His gaze darted to the west, toward far off Ordisium, although his goliathic homeland was impossible to see. Then he nodded toward the nearest rock and geared up to climb. "My mother died when I was two."

Why was he sharing this with her? The cold rock beneath her fingers chilled her, reminding her of the Realm, and she wished she had her bear-dog hide coat. Her bare shoulders did not appreciate the dropping temperature. A strong gale knocked some rocks from higher up the stony facade. They tumbled toward the goliath above her. He brushed them aside, and only a pebble made it past him to her.

"Did you see her in the Realm?" she asked after a moment.

"I did not."

"Oh." Now she felt even more baffled.

"I believe she passed on." His voice was low, as if talking to himself.

She felt moved to comfort him, as bizarre as that seemed. "I do believe there is another place besides the Realm. I also think no barbarian has a chance of reaching that other location."

Barbarians craved life. Although her mother had died in battle, and barbarians would willingly die in the heat of a melee, the drive and will to fight another day would never die within a barbarian, even if they no longer breathed. They were surely too restless to move on.

The goliath easily scaled the rock side, seemingly too intent on guiding her to respond. His prize — the shield — bounced on his back. When she was about to ask him if he saw another relative, he paused and looked down at her. "You saw yours."

It wasn't a question but a statement. She stopped beside him, hands on her knees more to avoid eye contact than from fatigue. By now, the sun slept, and clouds blanketed the moon. To her, none of the rocks looked remarkable. "Have we far to go yet?"

"You called out to her."

During a nightmare perhaps. What all had she said while she slept? "Yes, I saw her."

"Happy to see you?"

"Not happy I'm unwed. Can we continue on? Please?"

Lukor had the audacity to sit down. "She's more worried about you producing an heir than—"

"Than what, goliath?" she snarled. "What more can I do to save my people? The trolls want us dead. I'm trying to discover their plans." She yanked the messages out and tossed the trio onto his lap. "For all I know, they're reaching out to other races to aid them. I am doing all I can think of to help them prepare, so we know what we are up against. I know you wish the goliaths to join in, but since you are here with me and not your people, I can only assume that not all the goliaths agree with you." Ivy paused for breath, her chest heaving.

"If a dwarf killed a member of your family, would you want only that dwarf to die, or all of them?"

"Only that one!"

He raised his eyebrows.

Her cheeks burned, and she turned her back to him. "Aye, all of them." Ivy knelt in front of him, not facing him, and reached her hand back to pat his knee. "I am sorry for your loss." Idly, she thought of the goliatha she'd found and wondered if the girl still breathed. "Truly I am."