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W
e went back up to the house before it got dark.

The fire Magnus started in the corner fireplace
was cozy and inviting, the wine was delicious, but the banter felt forced and
awkward. So many things lay brooding beneath the veneer of polite conversation.

Magnus hadn’t changed all that much in the
years we’d been apart. When we were younger, he’d used smiles and easy kisses
to charm my thoughts from me. My secrets were out of my mouth before I even
knew I was talking.

But that was another life. He’d pressed me hard
all day, wanting more details about my time in Pentorus, but I’d kept that door
mostly closed. I didn’t want to fan the flames of revenge for Magnus, though I
had enough stories to keep him furious for the rest of his life.

I simply couldn’t open myself to those memories
again. Not yet, anyway, and certainly not the worst of them. Those years
belonged to
me. They were the fuel for
my
anger. I could fight my
own battles, or not, as I saw fit. I had choices now, and they were precious to
me.

“. . . scar on your jaw,” I heard Magnus say.

The word “scar” pulled me from my musings. “I’m
sorry? I didn’t hear you.”

“You were a million miles away, Kymber. What
were you thinking?” He narrowed his eyes.

“You asked about the scar on my jaw?” I took
three large gulps of wine.

“I did.”

I pondered his question and decided I’d tell
him. That scar was a badge of honor, one of the few times I’d fought back.

“Well, I guess I’d been in Pentorus about a
month. My wounded hand still hurt, but not as badly as it did at first. The
better I felt, the more I thought maybe I had a chance. I just needed to keep
my anger and outrage alive. And so, I fought every time Garai came for me.”

“As I’d expect you to do.”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t enough. Garai pulled me
out of my cage by the hair on my head one evening when I was particularly
insolent. It was do or die that night, and I fought him until I felt muscles
tear. I nearly got away too, but he threw me to the floor, pulled his dagger,
and held it to my throat.” I reached up to touch the soft spot beneath my left
ear lobe.

“He drew the blade from my ear to the tip of my
chin, cutting as deeply as he could without killing me. I thought it was funny
– ironic funny. I taunted him with it. ‘Do it, coward. Kill me. Get it over
with.’ And he said . . .” I took several swallows of wine as that bastard’s
voice filled my head. “He said, ‘Oh, Kymber, I don’t want your death. I want
your
life
. Every day of it. I am going to make you wish you’d never been
born.’”

Magnus growled and curled his hands into fists.

“It didn’t take him long.” I refilled my goblet.
“Have you ever prayed to die, Magnus?”

“Yes.” I barely heard him.

“Then you know what I did next.”

He froze for a moment, then clapped his hands
and rubbed them together. “Listen, this conversation has taken an unpleasant
turn. I think it’s time for bed. It’s been a long day for both of us.”

I lifted the goblet of wine to my lips. Did he
truly want to know the details? He’d barely made it through one of the more
innocuous stories.

He
was
right about one thing though – it
had been a long day. I was ready to be alone with my demons for a while.

M
agnus escorted me to my
room, then gave me a slight bow and a promise to see me in the morning. I
closed the door and sank to the floor.

My room.
Someone had lit half a dozen candles and set
them here and there. It was spacious, just as cozy and inviting as the sitting
room had been.

A large canopy bed and dressers with real
mirrors stood along every wall. Gold and amber drapes made of heavy velvet fell
from the windows, gathering in soft puddles on the floor. Braided gold cords
with long tassels at both ends swept the drapes back from the windows.

 The tickle in my stomach erupted onto my face
in the craziest smile. Kymber Oryx had her own room. I didn’t have much to put
in the drawers yet, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t sleeping on hard rock with
flea-infested, half-tanned animal hides between the ground and my bony carcass.
I wouldn’t have to duck behind boulders when a stranger came into my cave and
picked through my possessions. I
belonged
somewhere now.

The same muted gold, brown, and rust colors
found in the rest of the house set the tone in my room. Well, all except the
bed covering, which was a lovely shade of soothing tan. The canopy over the bed
was made of the most delicate lace, with just a hint of gold ribbon adorning
the edges. So feminine, I nearly jumped out of my skin with joy.

I rose to explore. Beyond a set of dark
mahogany doors lay a privy chamber and water closet, complete with its own
aqueduct. A steaming bath had already been drawn for me, probably by the frosty
Tomas.

I found small round soaps laid out in an irresistible,
cream-colored row, inviting curious fingers to lift them to an even more
curious nose. I breathed in the lavender and mint, wondering if I were in the
throes of a perfect dream.

 And such fluffy brown towels! I pressed them
over my face and inhaled their fresh scent. They might be insignificant
fripperies to someone else. To me, they were the epitome of luxury. The key to
a long locked door.

Though exhausted, I allowed myself a thorough
soak in the bath. The marble edge of the tub was smooth and as slippery as ice
though, and I kept nodding off and falling in.

I decided to get out when I slipped under the
water for the third time. It would have been the height of irony to drown in my
own tub after surviving everything else.

I opened one of the expertly-folded towels,
astonished at its size. It was nearly as large as Magnus’s cloak. I closed my
eyes and wrapped it around my body. The towel was the softest thing I’d ever
felt, like the down of a chick. Its scent was clean and fresh, but my damp skin
released something completely unexpected from the velvety fabric.

Childhood memories.

All my life I’d known I was not the biological
child of Tanit and Donea Oryx, but they loved me as though I were. They’d never
tried to hide the fact that they found me on their doorstep wrapped in a bloody
cowhide, my umbilical cord still attached.

I might have been the illegitimate child of a
highborn man or woman from Jalartha. My dark brown hair spoke of such, but my
eyes…ah, my eyes were an anomaly in Calari. I knew of no one else who had eyes
the color of mine. Sky blue, though Magnus had always said they were the blue
of thick ice.

In any case, my blue eyes certainly drew enough
attention. By the time I was seven, I’d gotten used to people staring at me and
making rude comments. By the time I was seventeen, my skill with a blade was
widely known. No one dared to stare and snarl insults then.

Blue-eyed people must have existed somewhere in
this land, or I wouldn’t have them. I’d always imagined my mother was a princess
from a lost tribe or a beautiful goddess no one else could see. I believed she
and the man who’d sired me were madly in love with each other, but forbidden to
be together by an angry father who wanted a more lucrative alliance for
himself.

I’d stared out the window as a young girl with
more than stars in my eyes, my head awhirl with silly, romantic notions only a
child could conjure.

It was more likely my mother had given me away
because she couldn’t stand the sight of me. Perhaps I was the result of rape or
forced marriage. The child I’d been hadn’t thought that way, though. The Oryx’s
made sure my world was loving and safe and perfect.

The piquant scent of the towel brought clarity,
fixed a night in my mind that shouldn’t have been noteworthy. I’d looked up at Calari’s
twin diamond moons just before my thirteenth birthday and wondered about the
man I would marry. Did my future husband stare up at the night sky and ponder
the same thing? 

If fate had not played a cruel trick on us, I
would’ve been the wife of Magnus Tyrix. I’d loved him so very, very much.

Enough of that. Time could not be turned
backward, so I concentrated on finding something to wear to bed instead. I’d
seen a plain muslin nightgown hanging behind the privy door. I pulled it on, finished
my nightly ablutions, and headed toward that magnificent bed.

I blew the candles out along the way then crawled
between the covers. I closed my eyes and imagined myself cradled in the palm of
a god. The linens smelled fresh, like the air after a thunderstorm. Was it
possible for a sheet to caress one’s body like a lover?

 I lay in the dark with the most ridiculous
smile on my face. Perhaps I hadn’t landed in the hand of a god, but this was as
close as I’d ever come.

I always thought I’d kill Magnus if I ever saw
him again. In fact, I killed him every time my body convulsed from the blows of
a whip.

Now I was grateful Magnus had found me that day
near Jalartha. Could I . . . could I ever love him again?

Tariq and Magnus. Brothers. Two men as different
as night and day. How could Tariq have been so heartless? Why hadn’t I seen it
in him? Tariq was a passable swordsman. Nothing fancy, but I never feared him.
Nor was I reluctant to fight by his side.

What he’d done didn’t make sense. Though Tariq
often lost his temper in battle, he was not the kind of man to seek vengeance
for a slight.

 I hadn’t thought so, at least.

So many disturbing questions with equally
disturbing answers. There was nothing I could do about it. Fate would play out
as she intended.

I was safe now – an incomparable feeling – but
I knew the ground beneath me could shift at any moment. What if Garai found me
here? What if he stormed the house and took me away, and there was nothing
Magnus could do about it?

More questions crowded my mind: What if I
couldn’t hold a sword? Worse than that, what if I
could
? What would
prevent me from being what I once was? Did I truly want
to be a warrior
again? Perhaps only half a warrior? I knew none of those things would happen
overnight. The physical part of my recovery was only a fraction of the
challenge. My biggest hurdle would be mental.

Too tired to give it further thought, I
burrowed deep into the bed and drifted off to sleep.

I
arose early the next morning, saddled Fitz,
and headed into Adamar to see my physician friend.

I’d deliberately withheld his name from Kymber.
She might’ve refused to allow him to examine her had she known I was speaking
of Jarl Aldi.

Jarl had come to T’hath Academy during my third
year, and he and Kymber had hissed at each other like feral cats. Jarl was much
older, holding firmly entrenched opinions on the types of things females should
and should not be permitted to do. He was astonished to find a beautiful young
woman training with men. Unfortunately, he had not hesitated to speak his mind.

Kymber took him on with the wisdom of someone
thrice her age. I sat a little taller as I rode, recalling how she’d made short
work of every one of the physician’s archaic notions.

If Jarl pointed out that women were weak,
Kymber did something outrageous, something he couldn’t easily refute. Once, she
went to the barn and came back with a small pony in her arms. She set it gently
on the floor and challenged him to return it to its stall.

He could barely lift it. Kymber had to take it
back for him.

Jarl dared to tell her once that she would be a
liability in battle. The look of astonishment on her face was still fixed in my
mind. “Why would you say such a thing to me?” she’d asked. 

“The men will be so concerned with protecting
you, they’ll forget to fight,” he said.

She pulled Silverlight from its scabbard and
whirled, slicing the top off every lit candle in his surgery before he even had
a chance to open his mouth. Her sword went back into the scabbard just as fast.
“I would refuse to go into battle with anyone that stupid,” she’d said. “No men
like that train here, good healer. They know my worth.”

Yes, Kymber Oryx had been an outspoken, fiery
pillar of strength. A stark contrast to the pale, quiet woman who now wandered
the halls of my house.

 I wondered if I’d committed myself to a battle
I couldn’t win.

J
arl Aldi’s office was
located in Adamar’s business district, near the open market. Though haggling could
be heard, and the crowds were noisy, the streets were kept impeccably clean.
One did not have to fear stepping into a wet pile of dung, as no livestock were
permitted to run loose in this part of town.

I stepped up on the small stoop outside Jarl’s
office and attempted to look in the window, but someone had pulled the blinds.
Still, the sign showing through the glass pane proclaimed him open. I knocked,
something I wouldn’t normally have done.

I heard his jovial voice call from within: “I’m
here. You may come in.”

I pushed the door open a crack and stuck my
head inside. “It’s Magnus. If you’re busy, I can come back another time.”

Jarl emerged from the examination room in the
back, wiping his hands on a small white towel. Though he never spoke of his
family, he almost certainly had an exotic ancestor or two. His eyes and skin
were a smooth brown, the color of weak coffee. Short, tight curls covered his
head, black shot through with gray. “I have time for you, Magnus. I was just
treating a woman with a headache. The light hurt her eyes so I pulled the blinds.
I forgot to put them back up.”

“I see.” I entered and closed the door. “I have
news, Jarl. Good news. And I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Come in. Sit down.” He gestured toward a
wooden chair along the wall just inside the door. I sat; he hung the towel on a
hook and sat down beside me. “The news must
be good. You look twenty
years younger today.”

“I have someone living with me now. A woman.” I
thought Jarl would be happy to hear it. He knew how much I’d grieved for
Kymber. In fact, he’d told me more than once I should move on. 

He didn’t smile though; in fact, he kept his
face carefully blank. “Congratulations.”

“You’ll never guess who it is.” I wanted to shout
it from the rooftops.

Jarl thought a moment then shook his head. “I
have no idea.”

“Kymber Oryx.”

Jarl gave such a violent start he nearly fell
off the chair. “
Kymber Oryx?
How? How is she still alive?” 

I relayed the whole sorry tale as it had been
told to me, then told him how I’d found her near Jalartha. The look of elation
Jarl had on his face soon turned to horror. 

“Tariq did that? Your own brother?” Jarl shook
his head. “I can scarcely believe it.”

“Once I get her healthy and settled in, I’m
going to find him. I’m going to kill him, Jarl.”

“You certainly have that right, after what he’s
done, but I’ve never thought a woman should fight.”

I raised my hand to silence him. “Don’t say that.
Kymber was better than most of the men who trained at T’hath. She was born to
hold a sword.”

Jarl gave me a sharp look. “Had she been a man
. . .”

“Had she been a man, the result would’ve been
the same. She was ambushed by someone she trusted. Someone she’d been
trained
to trust. She had no reason to think Tariq would turn on her like that.”

The physician stared at me for a moment then
nodded. “My thoughts are not important, I guess. She’s back, and you appear to
be a different man. I take it the favor you were going to ask of me has to do
with her?”

“Her hand. It’s stiff and useless, but with a
little bit of work and patience perhaps–”

“Magnus . . .”

I shuffled my feet beneath the chair. “I’m well
aware it may not help, but I have to try.”

“What does Kymber think of your plan?”

“She . . . she is not opposed to it, but I
didn’t see great enthusiasm either. She’s not the same woman she was, Jarl.
Garai didn’t break her, but he changed her. She has a haunted look in her
eyes.”

“I would imagine she does, after eight years as
a captive with the barbarian king of Pentorus.” He ran a hand over his face.
“I’ll come to your place and take a look at her, as long as you understand that
I may not be able to help her. You can’t force her to want this. Allow her mind
to heal before you try to get a sword back in her hand. The T’hath training was
brutal.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m not an idiot.
She’s as skinny and weak as a street cat right now. This is going to take time.
But she made it through that training once. I know she can do it again.”

Jarl tilted his head. “How did that little slip
of a woman ever end up at the academy anyway?”

“She was left on the academy’s doorstep as an
infant. She never knew who her parents were. Tanit Oryx and his wife raised
her.”

“I remember Tanit. The academy proctor. Nice
man. His wife’s name was . . .”

“Donea. They had already raised three sons, so
they were delighted to have a daughter. Kymber had started training before I
ever got there.” I laughed. “I was eighteen, she was fourteen the first time I
saw her. That hair sparking gold in the sun with every move she made. Blue eyes
that could freeze you in your tracks, not to mention that lean, curvaceous body.”

Jarl laughed. “Of course.”

“I made the same mistake you did at first. I
taunted her about her size. Before I could blink, I was on my back, staring at
the sky with a sword pointed at my throat. Gods, she was
magnificent
! I
was in love with her before I even got to my feet that day. And I learned a
valuable lesson, my friend. It’s not healthy to underestimate Kymber Oryx.”

“That’ll teach you. And I guess it will teach
me too.” Jarl gave me a long, hard look. “I’ll be over in a day or two, but no unrealistic
expectations, Magnus, and I mean that.”