held one other than to face the man who’d given it to her so freely.
The man who crawled out of the tunnel.
Tallis of Pendray.
Whatever remained of his berserker rage was visible only in his eyes. The night darkness was almost absolute. In fact, she was sure that the only clues she collected were drawn from her gift. Could it be possible? To read him at last? But no. It was
He adjusted the strap of his knapsack and held out his hand. “I’ll have that back now.”
For a moment, she was tempted to hack his palm—an impulse born of frustration and fear. But her hatred had dimmed compared to the terror of standing face to face with Pashkah. How could she have compared the two men?
“I didn’t want it in the first place.” Kavya swung the sword and presented him with the hilt. The needle tip of the seax pointed directly at her heart. She already bore two cuts on her neck. She knew the blade’s lethal potential. But this was a show of . . .
Trust?
And a warning.
She wasn’t afraid of him.
“Thank you.” He sheathed it behind his back.
“Why?” The tremulous voice belonged to one of the young women. “Why did you do it? You’re the Sun. You were supposed to bring us together.”
Kavya knelt beside the crouching pair. “You’re Sarbani. You share a family pod with Divyesh and his wife.”
“That’s right.”
To the other Kavya said, “And you’re Jayashree. Your brother was killed by your husband three years ago. You’re safe from that constant fear.”
“We have your brother to fear now,” Jayashree said. “How is that much better? Sarbani is right. Where were you when he killed those Leaders? I know what it is to be terrified of one’s brother, but we were depending on you.”
They were too distraught and angry to be consoled now that the immediate danger had passed. “Will you accept my apology and my vow to make this right? Will you come with us?”
A shimmer of thought flitted between the two women. Kavya couldn’t tell what they said, only that they were conferring without words.
In tandem, Sarbani and Jayashree stood. “No,” said the latter. “We’re Northern Indranan. We know these mountains. The last thing we need is a hunted woman and a mad Pendray dog. We’ll find the people of the North and let it be known that the Sun has fallen.”
CHAPTER
SIX
Tallis watched the women walk away, but he saw them as enemies rather than individuals making sensible choices. In the midst of his rage, he’d considered them distractions who imperiled Kavya. Now they were liabilities, and he was glad to be rid of them. Yet the turnabout of opinion after Kavya had just risked her life to save theirs was a biting betrayal.
He shook his head. The rage was still there. His berserker side tended to see things in black and white. There were good and bad situations. Good and bad people. He must still be holding on to that fury, because he should know better without needing a reminder.
“They’re traitors,” Chandrani said softly.
The bodyguard had rarely spoken opinions aloud. He assumed more virulent thoughts were stored in her mind, or shared with Kavya. Tallis appreciated that she at least thought to include him in her assessment.
“They have free will.” Kavya sounded tired and, more tellingly, she sounded disappointed. Grief bowed her posture and tightened the lines around her eyes. She was a woman in mourning, but remorse was not for killers. Tallis had firsthand experience with that fact.
She was so Dragon-damned beguiling that she kept distracting him from his goal.
“They would’ve been a hindrance,” he said tersely. “We need to move.”
Chandrani nodded, although she still assessed Tallis as she would a rabid coyote. She pulled her curved saber from a scabbard wrapped at her waist and set out, descending the mountain toward a river far below. “If you strike me again or harm Kavya,” she said over her shoulder, “you will never sleep again. You’d awaken missing your legs from the knee down.”
“Noted.”
Kavya didn’t follow. She stood facing Tallis, chin raised high. He wished he could read her eyes. As his gift ebbed, so did his heightened awareness. What would he see in those amber depths? Misery? Regret? Or worse, something akin to Pashkah’s sly triumph? Regardless of his personal grudge, he didn’t want to learn she was her murderous brother’s beatific partner.
“Are you back?” she asked.
“Back?”
She reached up, hesitated, then cupped his cheeks in her icy palms. He would’ve thought her skin warmed by exertion, but perhaps shock ruled the day.
“Are you Tallis? Or will I have a berserker at my back for the rest of the night?”
“You shouldn’t want either.”
“I just want to know who or what I’m dealing with.” She paused and tilted her head. “Wait, why wouldn’t I want the other side of you? You and your gift saved my life.”
“Unpredictability.”
“I saw that, yes. But something deeper. Your voice . . .
Tallis made a halfhearted attempt to shake free of her gentle hold, but she held fast. A foreign part of him liked the idea that his skin was warming hers. “Finally able to read my mind, goddess?”
“You’ll know when I can,” she said with a tart scowl. “Tell me.”
“Or?”
“Or I’ll ask Chandrani to forgo waiting for you to sleep. How would you use your gift without your legs?”
He placed his hands over hers. Now she was the one gently trapped. “She does everything you say?”
“She has a mind of her own, but she’s devoted that mind to my safety.”
“Must be nice. A trained Amazon at your beck and call. Why didn’t she find you in the tent?”
Kavya pinched her lips together. Her eyes darted aside. “I . . . I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”
“Talk.” The derision he felt toward her kind spiked. His
“And you’ve nearly evaded my question. Don’t believe that will ever happen. Other than the obvious, what do I have to fear from the berserker?”
Tallis tightened his fingers around hers until she winced. He pulled her fists to his chest. “I was able to evade your brother’s psychic attacks because nothing logical remains when I go that deep. Just . . .” He swallowed. What was this? He’d never been ashamed of his gift before. Something about this woman made him want to be more than a thoughtless Pendray cliche. “I work by instinct and take on an animal’s compulsion to survive at all costs. And . . . to reproduce at all costs.”
Confusion marred her soft brow. “We’re a dying race. We can’t reproduce.”
He pulled her closer. Their mouths could touch if he wanted that connection. Or if she did. “That doesn’t
