rain.
Maggie gagged. The gun fell from her limp fingers.
Chapter Five
Maggie looked over her shoulder again and again. She
couldn’t help it. No matter what Kered had told her, she kept expecting the
Gulap to come bounding up, a bloody Wartman’s hand dangling from its mouth.
Despite the blistering heat and blazing red sun in the
purple sky, Kered’s easy acceptance of the grizzly end of the Wartmen chilled
her blood. His practical retrieval of his stars sickened her. It had taken grim
determination to walk past the Gulap’s feast and follow Kered to this stark
plain.
Red dust matted the hem of her dress and rose in swirls
around her ankles. Her lower legs were thick with it and her shoes were
unrecognizable as black suede flats.
She paused. Ahead of her loomed jagged, red-striated
mountains that reminded her of the buttes of Monument Valley. The air had a
similar dry scent. There appeared to be no way up the mountains and no safe way
down. Unless, of course, you sprouted wings and took flight like the blue-hued
hawks that occasionally soared overhead, cawing an eerie cry into the silent
landscape.
Behind her were the more rounded and softer peaks of
Nilrem’s Hart Fell. The gentle slopes, green with coniferous trees, struck a
sharp contrasting chord to the sights before her. Yet she now knew that even
that placid landscape, scented with fresh pine and delicate white wildflowers,
harbored denizens more frightening than any from her imagination.
Nilrem’s world retreated with every step. Their goal, the
jagged red mountain before her, scarcely seemed any closer, the cave they
sought for the night no nearer.
Comfortable with the long distances and monochromatic views
of her parent’s home in the Southwest, Maggie judged the distance as more than
they could travel before the sun set. Of course, who really knew how long that
ugly red orb took to orbit this Tolemac earth? Perhaps they had days of
sunlight left, or minutes. She dropped her pendant into her neckline to still
its annoying thumping against her chest.
Kered marched at a relentless pace. He never looked back and
never spoke. Wasn’t he thirsty? Wasn’t he hot? His fur-lined cloak was an
incongruous outfit for this desert-like environment.
From the warrior’s conversation with Nilrem, Maggie knew
Kered needed to earn two arm rings to sit on the Tolemac council and try to
negotiate peace. Would it make that much difference to his quest if they made a
pit stop or two?
Maggie swallowed against the dryness of her throat. Her
mouth tasted like an old boot, or worse—like the sweat in an old boot. She
wanted her toothbrush.
She frowned at Kered’s large footprints stretching out
before her. He needed a lifemate. One with power. What woman would want such an
inconsiderate man? Maggie played a game, leaping from one footprint to the
other to stem the boredom and divert her mind from her physical discomforts.
Long ago, she had read somewhere about judging a person’s height from his
stride. She was five-feet-nine-inches and she came to Kered’s armpit. That made
the warrior six-foot-seven or eight. Taking a final hop and stomping one of his
footprints to dust, she halted.
Kered marched at least fifty yards before he realized Maggie
wasn’t following. Turning back, he waited. She waited. With an audible sigh of
resignation, he strode back to her.
“What is the problem?” He made no attempt to temper his
impatience. “Darkness is falling. All manner of creatures walk the night.
Surely you understand that now?’’
Maggie darted nervous glances about the vast, wasted
landscape. “I need to go to the bathroom!”
“You require a bath?” he roared. “Here? Now?”
“No.” Maggie’s voice rose to join his shouts. “I don’t
require a bath. Don’t you have to go?”
“Go? I have been going. You are the one standing still!” he
bellowed, slamming his pack to the ground and flinging off his cloak.
Maggie danced in place. Stress gave an
Maggie gagged. The gun fell from her limp fingers.
Chapter Five
Maggie looked over her shoulder again and again. She
couldn’t help it. No matter what Kered had told her, she kept expecting the
Gulap to come bounding up, a bloody Wartman’s hand dangling from its mouth.
Despite the blistering heat and blazing red sun in the
purple sky, Kered’s easy acceptance of the grizzly end of the Wartmen chilled
her blood. His practical retrieval of his stars sickened her. It had taken grim
determination to walk past the Gulap’s feast and follow Kered to this stark
plain.
Red dust matted the hem of her dress and rose in swirls
around her ankles. Her lower legs were thick with it and her shoes were
unrecognizable as black suede flats.
She paused. Ahead of her loomed jagged, red-striated
mountains that reminded her of the buttes of Monument Valley. The air had a
similar dry scent. There appeared to be no way up the mountains and no safe way
down. Unless, of course, you sprouted wings and took flight like the blue-hued
hawks that occasionally soared overhead, cawing an eerie cry into the silent
landscape.
Behind her were the more rounded and softer peaks of
Nilrem’s Hart Fell. The gentle slopes, green with coniferous trees, struck a
sharp contrasting chord to the sights before her. Yet she now knew that even
that placid landscape, scented with fresh pine and delicate white wildflowers,
harbored denizens more frightening than any from her imagination.
Nilrem’s world retreated with every step. Their goal, the
jagged red mountain before her, scarcely seemed any closer, the cave they
sought for the night no nearer.
Comfortable with the long distances and monochromatic views
of her parent’s home in the Southwest, Maggie judged the distance as more than
they could travel before the sun set. Of course, who really knew how long that
ugly red orb took to orbit this Tolemac earth? Perhaps they had days of
sunlight left, or minutes. She dropped her pendant into her neckline to still
its annoying thumping against her chest.
Kered marched at a relentless pace. He never looked back and
never spoke. Wasn’t he thirsty? Wasn’t he hot? His fur-lined cloak was an
incongruous outfit for this desert-like environment.
From the warrior’s conversation with Nilrem, Maggie knew
Kered needed to earn two arm rings to sit on the Tolemac council and try to
negotiate peace. Would it make that much difference to his quest if they made a
pit stop or two?
Maggie swallowed against the dryness of her throat. Her
mouth tasted like an old boot, or worse—like the sweat in an old boot. She
wanted her toothbrush.
She frowned at Kered’s large footprints stretching out
before her. He needed a lifemate. One with power. What woman would want such an
inconsiderate man? Maggie played a game, leaping from one footprint to the
other to stem the boredom and divert her mind from her physical discomforts.
Long ago, she had read somewhere about judging a person’s height from his
stride. She was five-feet-nine-inches and she came to Kered’s armpit. That made
the warrior six-foot-seven or eight. Taking a final hop and stomping one of his
footprints to dust, she halted.
Kered marched at least fifty yards before he realized Maggie
wasn’t following. Turning back, he waited. She waited. With an audible sigh of
resignation, he strode back to her.
“What is the problem?” He made no attempt to temper his
impatience. “Darkness is falling. All manner of creatures walk the night.
Surely you understand that now?’’
Maggie darted nervous glances about the vast, wasted
landscape. “I need to go to the bathroom!”
“You require a bath?” he roared. “Here? Now?”
“No.” Maggie’s voice rose to join his shouts. “I don’t
require a bath. Don’t you have to go?”
“Go? I have been going. You are the one standing still!” he
bellowed, slamming his pack to the ground and flinging off his cloak.
Maggie danced in place. Stress gave an
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