Fireborn (A Born Prophecy Book 1) Read online

  She made an impatient gesture. “The spell, you ignoramus!”

  Now he really was at a loss to understand. “What spell?”

  “The one you put on me to make me notice your eye crinkles, and your shoulders, and your really impressive chest ... and the muscles that go down to your belly ... and your eyes that look like you’re always laughing at a secret joke. I object to the secret joke! If you’re going to eye laugh, you should tell me what’s so funny so I can laugh, too.” She put a hand to her mouth and looked momentarily horrified. “And also the spell that made me tell you all that. Goddess, I didn’t say what I think I just said, did I?”

  He wanted to laugh, but had the feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the fact that he found her utterly delightful and different from every other woman he’d met. “Eye crinkles?” he asked instead, and touched the skin at the edges of his eyes. “You mean my crow’s-feet? You like them? Master Nix told me that use of arcane magic was making me look old before my time. I can’t imagine anyone thinking they were nice. Or imagining I could cast a charm spell even if I wanted to, and assuming that a wielder of magic such as you would be susceptible to it.”

  Now it was her turn to look confused. “You didn’t cast a spell?”

  He shook his head. “My master never taught me spells of chivalry, saying they were for the highborn, and not the likes of me.”

  “But ...” Her gaze went to his head for a few seconds. “You have the pale hair of the highborn.”

  “My father came from a family who had some renown in our region, but he was cast from them when he chose to marry my mother.”

  An odd expression crossed her face. “Was she hearty peasant stock, too?”

  “Not quite,” he said with a little laugh, then, unable to keep from brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, allowed his thumb to linger on the softness of her skin. “I will apologize for the kiss if you like, although I would be untruthful if I did not say I enjoyed it.”

  She sighed. “I did, as well. Which is shameful to admit if you really didn’t cast a spell on me—” She shot him a sharp look.

  “I swear by both goddesses that I am innocent of any charm spells.”

  “—but that’s really not important now. What is important is that you explain to me what this Council of Four Armies is.”

  He took in the earnest expression, the way her eyes avoided meeting his, and the fact that she had moved away to absently caress the pommel of Penn’s saddle, which sat on a wooden chest. “I will answer your question if you answer one of mine.”

  She thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “I want to hear the question first. It’s only fair, since you know what I wish to know.”

  He settled himself and his rock-hard erection on the cot that Lord Israel had provided, thankful once again for the thigh-length tunic that hid the proof that he was profoundly affected by the kiss. “I want you to explain to me exactly what a banesman is.”

  She was silent for a moment, then, to his surprise, sat down next to him, her face thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what I know, but only because I don’t believe it will do Deo any harm, and it might go far to getting your obstinate overlord to realize a few truths. I’m afraid it’s not a detailed history, however. Deo was not very forthcoming on our journey to Genora, and the others were no help.”

  Hallow was very aware of her sitting so close to him, but even as he told his body to stop reacting to her tempting nearness, the analytical part of his brain was weighing the story she told him about a transformation, and how Deo intended on using his elite army to destroy once and for all the invaders who had enslaved half the world.

  “So he has really managed to harness chaos magic,” he murmured to himself when she had finished her tale. “I hadn’t thought it could be done, although my old master swore it was possible. Still ...” He eyed the line of dots along her forehead, touching it with the tip of his forefinger. “It seems to me that perhaps Deo has underestimated the impact of his newfound abilities on Alba.”

  “Is it ... ugly?” Allegria asked, then made an annoyed expression. “The line on my head. Is it ... unsightly?”

  “No,” he said, tracing it. On a whim, he lifted the hair at her temple and peered underneath it. “It’s just a narrow line of tiny black spots, like knots in lacework. It looks like it goes all the way around.”

  She rubbed her forehead and made an annoyed sound. “I don’t mean to be so vain, but Deo had no mirror, and from the way the others stared at me, I thought it must be very pronounced. What do you mean, underestimated?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” he admitted, turning slightly, enough that his leg pressed against her. Instantly, he was hard again. “It’s just a feeling that things are not going to go as smoothly as he believes.”

  “That could be said about many things, Lord Israel’s campaign included, which brings us to the Council of Four Armies.”

  “It does indeed.” He was silent, wondering what was the best path to take. He had told Lord Israel he would help fight the Harborym, but that help could take many forms. And now, there was Allegria, enticing him in both physical and mental ways. Was not her presence in his life a sign from the goddesses that he was meant to take another path?

  “It’s your turn to share,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.

  He looked at her in confusion for a moment.

  “We agreed to exchange information,” she explained.

  “Ah. Yes.” He cleared his throat and ignored the burn of her leg against his. “The council is made up of four tribes, as you must have realized. Lord Israel heads the armies of Aryia. Lord Jalas leads the army from the High Lands of Poronne. The Master of Kelos—who is the runeseeker Exodius—leads the arcanists, if such a scattered and unorganized group of people can ever be said to be led. And Queen Dasa controls those Starborn who have escaped enslavement.”

  “That is very interesting. So the queen will be joining Lord Israel?”

  Hallow shifted, uncomfortable with the astuteness of her line of thought. He made it a policy not to outright lie unless there was a very good reason for it, and now that he and Allegria had come to a form of an accord, he felt unwilling to do so. Then there was Lord Israel. True, he had sworn no fealty, but that didn’t mean he could reveal details Lord Israel would prefer not be shared.

  In the end, he told Allegria an abbreviated form of the truth. “The queen’s intentions are unknown at this time.”

  “She’s here, though, isn’t she? On Genora?” Allegria asked, seeing through his carefully worded statement. “She plans on helping destroy the Harborym?”

  “It is my belief she is,” he said, and decided a change of subject was in order. He tried to pick something suitably interesting to distract her, but before he could do so, his mouth spoke for him. “Is Deo your lover?”

  “No,” she answered absently, clearly thinking about what he’d just told her. Then she shot him an amused glance, and poked him in the side with her elbow. “I wouldn’t have allowed you to kiss me if he was.”

  “But you chased after him when you were young?”

  “As did, according to Deo, every female of tender years. In my case, it wasn’t true. I simply wanted to join Lord Israel’s company to fight.” Her voice was filled with scorn for a few seconds before she chuckled, a delightful sound that went straight to his groin. He made a mental note to have a lengthy talk with his libido later. “Deo was very handsome then, you know. Not blond as you, but still handsome. I think he probably took after the queen.”

  Hallow gave a one-shouldered shrug. “And his pretty face was enough to capture your attention?”

  “My attention was captured by the idea of fighting the Harborym far more than Deo,” she protested. “Why are you trying to avoid talking about the queen? What is it you know that you don’t want to tell me?”

  “You’re good,” he told her. “I knew you were astute, but you didn’t let the subject of your infatuation with Deo sway you.”

&nbs
p; “Sandor—the head of my temple—calls it pigheadedness. What do you hide about the queen, Hallow of Penhallow?”

  He sighed. “You weren’t distracted.”

  “I was, but only temporarily.”

  “I suspect I will regret telling you, but I can see you are going to make a much bigger issue out of something that doesn’t deserve that attention. Queen Dasa is currently in Starfall City.”

  “That much I guessed. She’s a prisoner, then?”

  “No.” He said nothing more, just let the word hang there in front of them.

  Allegria’s eyes widened. “The Harborym hold the city.”

  “They do.”

  She sucked in her breath while she made the obvious conclusion, drawing his attention back to her mouth with its delicious pink lips. “She’s working with them?”

  “So it is said.”

  Her look was as sharp as the swords she had worn. “You don’t know for certain?”

  “I have not met her,” he said carefully, spreading his hands. “I only repeat what was told to me by Lord Israel’s men-at-arms.”

  “Interesting,” she said, and was silent while she chewed over this information. “Well, this has been very useful. Thank you for your honesty. If you would fetch my swords, I’ll slip out and let you get on with whatever it is you do. What do you do?”

  “I am an arcanist,” he said evenly. “I’m no sunweaving Bane of Eris, but I have my uses. I take it you intend on simply walking out of the camp?”

  “Of course. I can’t stay here. Lord Israel isn’t what I would call overly stable in the emotional department, and even if he was open to conversation, I really have little skills in the art of diplomacy. I’ll just take my swords and be off.”

  He fought the urge to laugh at her matter-of-fact attitude. “I wish it was that easy, but as you will no doubt recall, I gave Lord Israel my guarantee for you. I doubt if he’d call you escaping to take tales back to his son good behavior.”

  “I’m not staying, Hallow,” she told him, the lights in her eyes glinting a warning.

  “I can’t let you leave.”

  “Then I won’t give you the choice—” She rose and her hands started to glow golden. Hallow leaped to his feet, frantically drawing protective wards all around before taking hold of Allegria’s arms.

  They were so close, her scent enveloped him in a wave of lust, desire, and need.

  She had stiffened the second he touched her, but suddenly swayed toward him, her hands on his shoulders, her mouth near his.

  Just as he was about to accept the kiss she so plainly offered, the flap to the tent was shoved aside, and a hand bearing a familiar black staff was jabbed toward him.

  “Take Thorn,” Exodius’s voice came from outside the tent. “He wishes to go with you.”

  He sighed against Allegria’s lips.

  She gave a little laugh. “It’s just as well. I don’t have time for a dalliance now, anyway.”

  The hand holding the staff waggled impatiently. “Take it, lad. I SAID, TAKE THORN. HE WANTS TO GO WITH YOU. You’d think the boy would get his ears checked, but that’s the way of the young these days. They know best, they always know best. STOP KISSING THE GIRL AND TAKE THORN. HE DOESN’T HAVE THE PATIENCE I HAVE. Those moonstones won’t find themselves, no matter what young Israel thinks.”

  Hallow pulled aside the flap and confronted the runeseeker. “Where does your staff think I’m going? The council is meeting here, as you well know since I brought you here for that very purpose.”

  “Ask him,” Exodius said, shoving the staff into his hands before shuffling off. “I wash my hands of the pair of you. You can keep him. YOU CAN KEEP THORN. As if I have all the time in the world to take him places. If he wanted to go with the lad so badly, he should have remained alive and not left me to be the Master of Kelos. ”

  “Thorn?” Allegria asked, moving next to him while she watched the old man shamble back toward the center of the camp. “Is that the name of the staff?”

  “Yes. Evidently the spirit of the former Master of Kelos imbues it. I gather Exodius and Thorn don’t get along well.” Hallow arranged the staff across the opening of the tent—on the outside, just in case the spirit inhabiting it had voyeuristic tendencies—in such a way that it would fall should Allegria try to escape without him being aware.

  Although how he could not be aware of her was beyond his ken. It was all he could do to not kiss her again, not caress that silky soft cheek, not breathe in her flower scent, the one that reminded him of lying in a field on a lazy summer afternoon with bees drowsily buzzing past him ... no. He had to stop thinking about his body’s urges, and remember that Allegria offered knowledge that he had no other way to access.

  “Lord Israel would not take kindly to you leaving now,” he said slowly, hating the feeling of being caught between his duty to Israel and his sympathy for Allegria’s plight. It wasn’t as if she were an enemy—she wanted exactly the same thing that the whole of Alba wanted. Was it her fault if she decided to achieve the end by aligning herself with Deo? “I don’t know Lord Israel well, but I know he would view your escape as a declaration of war against him, both personally and politically.”

  “Do you think that will frighten me?” Allegria spoke with a genuine note of curiosity in her voice, one hand lifted to touch the side of his face. “You know as well as I do that dedicating your life to magic means releasing fear of the unknown. Isn’t that true?”

  He caught her hand and turned the palm to his lips, kissing it before he realized it. “Yes, but it doesn’t mean we should throw our lives away with reckless disregard to those who hold power.”

  “I’m not going to stay,” she warned. “I don’t mind a dalliance, because ... well, there are your eye crinkles, and I think that even though you’ve tied yourself to a man who feels the only way to deal with his son is to banish him, you’re probably an honorable man, but there is something bigger than Lord Israel’s ire to fear, and I’ve sworn to fight it, just as you’ve sworn to be at your overlord’s side.”

  Hallow hadn’t made any oath to Lord Israel, but he understood her integrity nonetheless. “You can’t leave now,” he said, having resigned himself to the inevitable. Once again, Exodius had seemed to know what was going to happen before he made the decision. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn more about Deo and how he controlled and used the chaos power. His path lay clear before him. “The sun has hours before she sets. The guards would see you if you tried to escape before dark, and that would end in a bloodbath.”

  She snorted a delicate, if unladylike, snort. “Do you think I fear them?”

  “No,” he said honestly, and gave her hand a little squeeze. “The blood would be theirs. But I don’t think you wish to have the death of innocents on this lovely hand.”

  She gave him a curious look, her cheeks pinkening in a delightful manner. “Do you think my hand is ... lovely?”

  “I think your hand is a mere shadow to the rest of your beauty,” he said with a suavity that had heretofore escaped him.

  She blushed again, glancing around the tent. “I suppose it would be folly to just walk out of here in full view of everyone. Which means waiting for six hours or so here. In this tent.”

  “Yes.” Hallow wondered if it was just him, or if the air was suddenly sucked out of the immediate area.

  She slid him a look that raised his temperature several degrees. “Do you have any suggestions on ways to pass the time?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, couldn’t, and cleared his throat before trying again. His voice came out as if he were being strangled. “We could exchange knowledge of chaos and arcane magic.”

  “Yes,” she said slowly, her gaze drifting down to his chest. A burning in his gut seemed to grow ... as did other parts of him. “That would no doubt be beneficial.”

  “To us both,” he pointed out, his body and mind urging him to take her in his arms, strip her garments, and reveal all that lovely soft flesh.


  “Mutually improving,” she said, a hitch in her voice giving it an airy quality.

  “Mutual is good,” his mouth said on its own, his brain having gone off to visit a land made up solely of lustful thoughts.

  “Hallow?”

  “Hmm?” He stopped wondering how long it would take to get them both naked, and forced his attention to what she was saying.

  She held her arms open. “Improve me,” she said, and with a mental whoop of delight, he swept her up and gave in to the desire to claim her mouth, which had been plaguing him since he’d first seen her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “You’re not going to be disappointed that I’m not a virgin, are you?”

  My words were muffled, being spoken, as they were, against his naked shoulder while my hands were busy stroking his chest.

  And oh, what a chest it was. I thought at first it was the breadth of it that made my legs feel as if they were made of honey, but now that I saw it in all its glory, I decided it was the scattering of golden hair that made hidden parts of me come alive.

  He stopped struggling to undo the ties on my under tunic, and looked at me, his eyes glittering like sapphires. “You’re not bound to someone?”

  “Would I be here now if I was?” I shook my head at the idea he would even question that. “But I am not a virgin as Lord Israel seemed to believe.”

  “Ah. Well, as to that, neither am I.” He grinned, making waves of heat wash up my thighs and pool in my secretive parts. “I’m not going to insult you by asking you if you’re sure you wish to do this, but I feel obligated by acknowledgement of our respective skills to point out we could spend the time exchanging knowledge rather than...”

  “I think the sort of knowledge exchange we’re going to perform is much more valuable,” I said, and put a finger one of his pert little nipples peeping out from the golden hair.

  He sucked in approximately half of the air in the tent. “Oh, goddesses of day and night, yes! Much more valuable!”

  I swore his fingers seemed to trail fire when he helped me from my undergarments, and at one point, peeked at his hands, but they were just normal hands—long fingers with blunt tips—and yet, they stirred feelings in me that were missing from my brief assignations with Sam the groom. At last we tumbled onto Hallow’s cot, our clothing strewn around the tent, and Hallow’s tunic hanging over the bird carved onto the top of runeseeker’s staff even though it sat outside the tent.