Hiya, I'm sorry this took so long – I've been revving up for the Xmas holidays. But thank you, thank you, thank you a thousand times over for all the truly fabulous people who reviewed :-) I'm very short on time right now, so I don't have time to thank you properly, but I loved reading everything you said, and appreciated all the constructive criticism (Thanks! It helped a lot!) So thanks to: Aeris Cimorene ei Caeran, Alec, Anon Sara's, Aquilla, Ariana, Dara, Depressed Muse, Euclara, FireLily, Harkly, Jackal Nyte, Mage Melery, Phantasea, Quartz, Sparrow, Starlight* and last, but never least, Wazzup Girl – thank you all so much! You really lit up my week! May it rain chocolate on you all...
Any comments would be adored, pored over, photocopied, framed, worshipped and sacrificed to daily. Please, please review! I love hearing what you think! And I'd particularly like to know on this part...I'm not too sure about it...
Hugs n' honey,
Ki
Hanging On Part Seven
"You're going now?"
The voice was soft and curiously hesitant, but Kel recognised the elegant drawl at once. She spun so fast she elbowed Peachblossom, who promptly shifted his weight onto her right foot. Kel yelped and swore furiously.
"That wasn't the reaction I was aiming for." Neal was at her side at once, green eyes soft and worried as he knelt down to examine her foot. He glanced up and gave her a brief grin. "You needn't think me kneeling at your feet will be a common occurrence," he remarked, as a cluster of jade firethreads flowed over her foot and the pain evaporated.
He was dressed, she realised, only his hair remaining curiously tousled as if he had raked his hands through it again and again. His usual wry expression was gone, replaced by an odd, shy smile that made her stomach liquefy.
She gave him a watery grin. "I wasn't expecting to see you."
"I wasn't expecting to be here," Neal told her thoughtfully. "But my feet seemed to have ideas of their own."
"Funny," Kel said, and her dreamy hazel eyes had a little mischief to them as she relaxed. "Normally they take you into the nearest tavern."
"Will of the gods," Neal said promptly. "And where my gods speak, I do not hesitate to obey."
She laughed, though her heartbeat struck her ribcage like a madman with a sledgehammer, and turned back to Peachblossom, hoping he wouldn't see the flush that had risen on her face. "And what do your gods tell you today, Neal?"
"That I should do this," he said and with a firm gesture, turned her around, so she had no choice but to stare into the crystalline beauty of his eyes, the proud face and that sleep-rumpled hair that looked shockingly touchable. "And I should tell you goodbye, and I will miss you, and...where did that split lip come from?"
Kel grimaced. "I woke Lalasa to tell her I was going. She was...surprised."
"Surprised?"
"She threw me into the wall. Next time I wake her up, I think I'll stand well back and shout."
Neal arched an eyebrow. "Sounds painful. Well, I can heal that." A deep breath, and his hands shifted to cup her face. "Hold still."
What am else am I going to do? she wanted to ask, but all questions promptly flew out of her head as he kissed her gently, mouth settling tenderly on hers and she felt the startling bitter-sweet sting of magic flow from him. And then he wasn't healing her, but saying goodbye in what Kel was sure was a time-honoured fashion. Body language, after all, could say more than a thousand words. And Neal had a lot to say.
When he finally lifted his head and looked at her with something between confusion and awe, Kel was completely speechless.
"You'd better go," Neal told her, green eyes glinting with something she couldn't decipher. A mild sigh. "I probably won't be here when you get back. The Lioness is getting restless." He shrugged. "Maybe that's a good thing."
Make your mind up, Kel wanted to say. Are you going to sit here and rave about right and wrong or are you going to do something? If it's going to be no, then at least tell me so I can start working out how to cope.
But she would rather have stayed there forever, with him staring down at her like she was a star that had dropped into his hands, than walk away and leave her unsure and hopeless.
"Squire Keladry?" Master Salmalin walked in and Kel and Neal sprang apart like lightning had struck them. "Are you ready?" His dark eyes glanced over Neal and he frowned briefly, looking from one to the other. "Nealan, is it? Alanna's squire?"
"Sir," Neal murmured. "I was just saying goodbye."
"Yes, that's exactly what it looked like," the mage said with a hint of wickedness and much to her immense embarrassment, Kel felt herself start to flush. "Well, if you would like to finish your goodbyes, we have to leave soon. And please tell the Lioness that I'd appreciate it if she could write the sandstorm charm down for me." She could swear that as he left, Master Numair had the starts of a positively evil smile on his mouth.
"You don't think...?" Neal said, staring after him.
"I don't know," Kel replied with a sigh. "I don't feel like I know anything at the moment, Neal."
He tilted her chin up and looked at her with a solemn face. "Well, I shall miss you," he informed her gently and took a deep breath. "More than I thought I would. And while my head might be shouting no..." He kissed her again, hands tracing reverent patterns on her skin. A soft smile, a little bit of colour in his cheeks. "My heart most definitely controls my mouth," he said gently, and strolled out before Kel could even start thinking again.
Funny, Kel thought. My heart doesn't let anything else get a word in edgeways.
* * * *
Dawn flowed over the landscape like a tender wave, the sun boiling slowly into the sky and throwing fireshot pinks and purples and oranges around it. It looked, Kel thought, like something from a dream. All around, only beauty and silence and the rhythmic clip of their horses hooves on the road and—
"Mithros bite me!" There was a muffled thump as the street boy, Ryan, fell off his horse and hit the ground at high velocity. He must have fallen asleep – Kel had had to concentrate to stop herself dropping off as they trotted through the night. From the vibrant cursing that followed, it wasn't only Mithros who would be biting him if the other gods were listening to just what the streetboy was saying about them.
"Mithros will do no such thing," Numair Salmalin remarked quietly, his eyes sparkling under the veil of his unfairly long eyelashes. "I take it you never learned to ride, Ryan?"
The boy scowled up at him, brushing dark hair out of his eyes, which were the cool grey of winter mists. "I can ride, I was just kippin'. Though where I come from, most folks eat horses."
His horse tossed its head and pranced away from him. The boy sighed heavily. "Not me, ye great lug. I ain't goin' to eat what's goin' to carry me."
"From what I've heard, it's about the only thing you street-rats won't touch," Bruna drawled in her icy, haughty voice.
"I could make an exception for you," Ryan said. "I ain't never been one for the village horse."
"The *what*?" Bruna said in total bemusement, her voice arching with derision.
The street-boy gave her a dazzlingly angelic smile. "Everyone gets a ride."
Kel had to turn her face away so the noblewoman mightn't see her smile. The boy had a wit far quicker than Bruna's, that was for sure. And the easy way he lounged in the saddle belied his astute glance. He had ignored her so far, mostly, except to look at her in brief appraisal.
"Do you know who I am?" the noblewoman shrieked in outrage. Kel saw Master Salmalin wince as if her voice hurt his ears. It was certainly grating and shrewish enough.
"Thank Mithros, no," Ryan murmured, his rough voice cool as the air around them. "But I get this feelin' I'm about to."
"I am Lady Bruna Darjeelan the Fifth of Farbrook," she informed him haughtily.
"Y'mean they had four tries before you an' they *still* didn't get it right?" The street boy's voice was gleeful, rich with amusement. Kel was starting to like him.
"You—"
"Children!" Master Salmalin's voice cut the air like a honed blade. "Enough. We are not here for you two to indulge in sparring matches. We have a long ride ahead of us, and you may need your strength."
"Y'ever plannin' on stoppin'?" the streetboy enquired. "I've had sleep enough, but I'm willin' to bet them two ain't." He glanced at the girls and Kel stared back.
"I'm used to long rides," she told him. "It's a rare day when our enemies set with the sun."
"Huh?" Ryan's grey eyes narrowed fractionally. "You're that lady knight, ain't you? Keladry of Mindelan. I heard 'bout you in the city. They says you're causin' trouble."
"They have it wrong," Kel said staunchly. "I don't cause trouble. I happen upon large quantities of it. And it's Kel. Just Kel."
The boy grinned lopsidedly. "Well, Just Kel, I know all about trouble. An' if you're wantin' to find it, you have to go lookin' for it first." He winked. "An' ain't it fun when you find it?"
"I don't know about that." Her voice was wry as she remembered the dozens of bruises and cuts she had received sparring with Joren and his cronies before they found her and her friends more than a match for them. "It hurts."
"Then you don't know how to fight proper-like." The boy bared his teeth in a startlingly feral gesture. "You teach me some of them Shang moves I hear you learn, an' I'll teach you how we fight in the streets."
She looked at the bright face, noted the scar running from ear to jaw that glistened in the weak morning light and decided that above all else, this boy was a survivor. "Done."
* * * *
Andrea could only hear her voice shrieking crazily for a brief second in the hellish golden glow that illuminated the cave, and then she had no breath to scream.
Dear Mithros, they were horrible.
Deformed things, hideous, half-man, half-beast things ringed her. If she looked at one, she saw the spark of sharp teeth, the tufts of fur sprouting from its body like some magical experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong. Another had horns perched atop its head, like twisted and bowed antlers, its arms unnaturally long and prehensile, reaching out towards her while those tiny, dark eyes glittered with hunger.
Everywhere she turned her head, they sat or stooped or lay; tails, claws, fangs, muzzles, all animals parts melded into a man's body, some appearing to be made up of several animals. One with a mouth that hung loosely and drooled onto its misshapen hands, another slithering closer, with no limbs and a strange pebbly skin.
She shrank back, wanting to douse the golden light of her Gift and at the same time, too, too afraid to leave herself alone in the darkness. The lay like a writhing, living carpet across the cave, their voices hissing from lipless mouths, hissing in a strange rhythmic chant...
Hungryhungryhungryhungry
No! she cried silently. I can't stay here, I can't! She wanted the blazing strength of Mithros's voice back, talking to her, even being angry with her because his rage was better than this horror. But no sound bar their cracked whispers, nothing but herself.
She was trembling madly, but Andrea knew she had to get out for these were far more dangerous than ever the gallows had been, far more primal and dangerous. She didn't want to hurt anything but...
"So hungry," she heard a voice sigh, almost human bar that eerie high pitch. "Want you..." The thing that stepped forward made her swallow hard to stop her stomach churning. Its hands were a lobster's claws, while silvery fur tumbled from its head like a mane, down to its hunched back. It was bent almost double, but still she saw the points of the wickedly long fangs that stretched to its chin like chunks of dirty ivory. Its legs had the strong, muscled look of a rabbits, odd against the rest of its contorted body.
"No," she said, and could think of nothing else at all. "No, no, no!"
"Fight us not," it said, the words slurred. Of course, it couldn't speak properly around those...teeth. "We want...we take. You ours. We take you.."
"Not me," Andrea whispered, pressing her back against the rock until the pain made her mind sharpen. "I'm not yours to take."
It laughed, a cold sound that made her think of ice cracking. "Wrong."
And then she saw why it had those odd, strong legs. Legs that coiled under it, that tensed...
It sprang.
* * * *
"Ah!" Ryan put a hand to his head briefly, swaying on the horse.
"Ryan?" Master Salmalin was alert at once, nudging his horse over to peer at the boy's face anxiously. "Goddess take me!"
Kel glanced over to see what was wrong and stared. Ryan's eyes were no longer grey, but that fiery dawn-touched blue, and his hands on the rein were laced with green threads, strands were spreading up across his body until he was haloed in that unholy light. The Gift, she thought and shivered. A blessing perhaps, but also a curse.
"It's her," the boy said through gritted teeth. "The girl. Somethin's goin' on. I can feel her. An' she's scared..." Fierceness in his voice at that. "A-feared and far away." He straightened, grimacing slightly. "We ain't got time to waste fussin' over me. Let's get on." But Kel noticed, however he tried to hide it, the pain that was soft in his voice.
* * * *
She froze for a moment, then felt her magic soar inside her, and briefly, she blinked and could sense the boy, riding somewhere, his mind shocked as the bond between them leapt into life, and the gold of her Gift turned that fatal emerald.
She screamed and hurled her...their Gift at it, afraid, angry. Lime-green light streamed from her hands like tamed lightning and streaked towards the creature. She shuddered as it hit, heard the creature's horrifying scream and saw the dust that drifted from the air.
I killed it, she thought. I killed that…thing. She wanted to retch, to control the maelstrom of feelings that spin in her head and body, but she had to get away first. Anywhere, not here, not with these.
"L-let me out," she ordered shakily. Pray Mithros, they didn't attack or she was finished. She didn't know if her Gift could…kill all of them. She didn't want to kill all of them, or even any of them.
A snarl rose around the cavern. Hundreds of pairs of eyes radiant in every colour of the rainbow, then the mass of bodies split to leave a clean path, uncannily alike the path that had swung to her from the executioner, what seemed like a thousand years ago.
She didn't hesitate, but fair flew down it, ignoring the way the cuts on her feet reopened, ignoring the pain and behind, the awful, broken howling that echoed into the air, instead throwing back her head to greet the morning light.
She was free, blessed gods, she was free.
She laughed and hurled magick into the air, unaware that anyone might be watching the sky, unaware they might see the towering pillars of flame that rose into the sky, simply running into the woodland around her.
But she knew where she was going now. She would find the boy. She knew where he was; in that brief moments when their Gifts had merged, she had known everything he knew.
She laughed again and threw fire into the daylight. The light was here now, she was safe. And in the distance, she could see a small river winding through the wood. Finally, she could scrub some of this dirt of. But...there might be people. People who saw she was a monster cruse with the Gift.
She shivered a little, but then remembered what she had seen in the boy's soul. That not everyone hated the Gift; that he was riding with two other Gifted, and that they would surely help her and protect her from the executioner. Because although Andrea's common sense told her he could not follow her, her heart told her that she had been foolish to try and escape, because there was no escape from your destiny.
The river, she told herself. The river.
And she spent a pleasant day alone in the woods, searching for food; all she found a bare patch of berries, she would have to find something more substantial soon, but for now she was content. And for the first time in her short life, as she curled into the scant shelter of a hollow tree...Andrea thought she might be...
Happy.
* * * *
And far away, the mage in the red robe let the orange light fade from her palms. "To the East," she called to her companion. Her slanted black eyes were cool as she looked thoughtfully to where the Gifted girl had lain herself down. "Salmalin is days away. If we can capture the girl quickly, we will have time enough to lay an ambush." She smiled, but it was empty of humour. "Set a mage to catch a mage."
"Good," the other said, claws clicking like knitting needles as it settled. Its tail flicked in idle motion, whipping dangerously close to the mage's feet. The black-haired woman turned and glared at her companion.
"Careful. The last thing I need is a broken leg."
"And if you dare to speak to me that way, it will be the first thing you get," the creature drawled in a voice slow and hot with anger, snarling, "Don't forget who I am."
The mage swallowed hard and dipped her head courteously. "I have not forgotten, master."
* * * *
The setting sun found the travellers setting up camp in a clearing away from the road. Kel watched as Master Salmalin laid a magick circle around their camp, the air quivering with black fire flecked with silver. She was busy building a hearth while Bruna sat herself down primly, far away from Ryan, and contented herself with staring into the sky and ignoring everyone else.
"How'd ye light the fire?" Ryan asked curiously, his eyes – back to their usual dark-grey now – following Kel's movements. "Ye've no tinder."
"There are lots of ways," Kel told him. "I thought you'd know, living on the streets."
The boy gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Aye, well, it ain't as backward as you people seem to think. Sometimes, it's even fair good." He watched as she began to search the surrounding ground for rocks. "What are ye doin', lass?"
"Lass?" She looked at him and saw his face sparking with mischief. "I'm your age! And I'm looking for flint. Strike a knife on flint and you get sparks."
"An' sparks start a fire," the boy finished, grinning. "So Kel, what's it like bein' the only lady squire? Ain't there people who don't like it? I've heard some in the city callin' you a witch an' a misfit."
She pulled a face. He would have to tell her that. "Like that, really. There's always someone who'll try to make life difficult. But I try to ignore them and get on with my life." She heard a tiny snort from in Bruna's direction, but ignored the girl.
Ryan yawned and stretched lazily. "I always hit anyone I heard say that. Reckon if Hana'd had a chance, she'd'a been good in the Riders. She's a fair shot with a crossbow an' you won't find any better with knives in the lower city. I hope you get your shield."
Kel looked up from where she was scrabbling in the dirt, surprised. "Thanks." She was about to continue, when a large hand hauled her up gently from the dirt and she found herself staring into the long-nosed face of Numair Salmalin.
"You don't need to do that," he told her mildly. "There are Gifted children here I need to train. Sit back and watch." His dark eyes were still as a lake on a windless day. "You might learn something." He beckoned Ryan and Bruna over. The noblewoman slunk over languidly, taking her time, while Ryan muttered something Kel was sure Bruna had to have heard, from the sullen curve to her mouth.
The mage gestured to the pile of wood. "Light the fire," he said calmly. "Let's see how Gifted you are."
* * * *
Thoughts? Opinions? Comments? I'd *love* to hear what you say. And thanks for reading!