Burning Alive

Gilda tilted her head as if confused when he knew she was anything but. “I thought you planned to take her into battle. Should she not see what her role shall be? Would you prefer to simply throw her in the midst of chaos and pray she learns along the way? I would have thought Thomas’s death would prove to you how poorly that worked.”



Drake’s teeth ground together and he had to fight back a wave of grief and guilt before he could speak. “I was trying to teach her.”



“And was it working?” she asked as if she already knew the answer.



Helen’s fingers squeezed his. “Let her show me. I need to learn this stuff or I’ll never be able to help you.”



“There are easier ways to learn,” he told her.



“But are there faster ways?” asked Helen.



Gilda’s beautiful mouth curved into a satisfied smile. “No. There are not.” She reached out a small hand to Helen in an uncharacteristically human greeting. “I am Gilda and I will teach you what you must know. Come.”



Helen followed Gilda to a section of land that had been cleared down to packed dirt. Warm summer air curled around her, drying the sweat on her skin. There were no security lights here and she had to use Drake’s power to allow her to see in the dark. She was already exhausted, and using even that small amount of magic was quickly taking its toll on her. She had to struggle to take each step, and if it weren’t for Drake’s strong arm supporting her, she wasn’t sure she could have managed even that much.



As if summoned, half a dozen men arrived—all but one of whom had given Helen his oath to die for her. That one was older than the rest, with a craggy face and a still silence about him. He stood by Gilda’s side, keeping watch over her. The pale gray band around her throat matched that of the ring on his hand. There was no movement in the colors as there were in Helen’s necklace, and she wondered why they were different.



Drake stood by Helen’s side, helping to keep her on her feet and letting her lean against him. Her legs were weak and shaking as if she’d just finished a marathon and she didn’t trust them to hold her up. But she trusted Drake and held on to him for support. He felt solid and capable and she was beginning to wonder whether he’d ever run out of strength. The hard ridges of the muscles running along his spine under her hand tempted her and she couldn’t help but slide her fingers over them, enjoying the feel of him.



He leaned down close to her ear as he pointed to the craggy-faced man. “That is Angus, Gilda’s partner and husband.”



“Do you know what those other men are doing here?” she asked him.



Gilda reached up and touched each one on the forehead and whispered something quietly to him. Each man nodded and went to stand at the edge of the clearing as if awaiting orders.



“Gilda is going to put on a mock battle for you. She is giving those men their roles and putting a protection over each one so that her magic won’t kill them.”



Wow. There was so much more to all of this than she could begin to imagine. She found it fascinating, if a bit disquieting. It was odd to think that all of this had been going on under her nose her entire life and she’d never even had a clue. “Have you done this before?”



“Many times. It’s how we practice without killing each other, though I imagine Gilda will be putting on more of a show for your benefit.”



“What do you mean, ‘a show’?”



“She’s going to try to scare you or shock you into believing you’re not good enough to do what is expected of you.”



“Why? I thought all of your people wanted me to help in your war. Why would she try to convince me otherwise?”



He gave her a sad smile. “Gilda has watched all of us grow up and sees us as her children. She’s protective. She’s worried that your inexperience will get me or one of the other men killed.”



“You know she’s right. If I’d known what to do to save Thomas and been able to do it, he might not have died.” She’d tried not to think about it too long because she worried the guilt would crush her, but she couldn’t ignore the obvious. She’d failed and now Thomas was dead.



Drake cupped her chin in his hand and made her look up at him. His expression was hard and the golden flecks in his eyes glowed with a fierce light. “That’s not true, and if you think like that—dwelling on what-ifs and should-haves—you’ll never be able to overcome your own insecurities. Then you truly will be a danger to those around you.”



“I don’t want my inability to get anyone else killed.”



“We’re grown men. We’ve been doing this a long time and know the risks. Look at those men and tell me if you think they see you as a threat or as a weakness.”



Helen looked toward the line of men Gilda had finished speaking to. They were watching her with open speculation and something else she couldn’t name. It wasn’t exactly hope, though that was part of it. It was more wistful—if big, somber men could be called wistful. She wasn’t sure what to think about it.



“Each one of them wishes he was me right now. Each one of them sees you as a sign that their lives may not have to be a constant battle against pain. You’ve given them hope and it’s more than they’ve had in a long, long time.” His thumb slid over her bottom lip and Helen had to stifle a shiver of longing. As tired as she was, she still wanted him to kiss her. None of this stuff could bother her when he kissed her. “A person can do incredible things if he or she has enough hope. You should remember that.”



Helen knew what he meant. He wanted her to have enough confidence to overcome her vision—her fear of fire. She wanted that, too, but acceptance was so much easier. Especially when she truly believed that she was nearly out of time. It had taken her a lot of hard years to gain that acceptance and she didn’t want to go back and do it all over again. She wasn’t that strong.



“We’re ready to begin,” said Gilda from the far side of the clearing. It was about a hundred feet across and at the center was a giant boulder carved with some kind of symbols.



Angus handed her a sword that looked like it had been used hard, and she held it up for all to see. “The goal is to retrieve this practice weapon. The Theronai will guard it and try to keep it from me. Drake and Helen will remain inside the circle but will not participate. Understood?”



“Yes, my lady,” said every man there in unison. Including Drake.



Helen flinched at the unexpected sound of so many deep voices. Gilda had been watching her, and a slight smile curved her mouth when she saw Helen’s startled reaction.



Gilda opened her hands and the sword floated over the heads of all the men and slammed point down into the earth behind them. “Then let us begin.”



Chapter 18



Suddenly, Helen was no longer so eager to see what Gilda had to show her. Based on the sly smile Gilda wore, Helen was sure she wasn’t going to like it.



Drake’s arm tightened around her waist and he pulled her close to his side. “Brace yourself,” he whispered to her.



Helen had no idea what he meant, but a moment later Gilda lifted her hands and a giant ring of fire erupted from the earth, closing them all in.



Helen hadn’t braced herself for something like that, and she let out a shriek of terror. The fire was only feet from her. It was easily ten feet high and roared with an almost deafening sound. A hungry sound.



“You’re fine. Just breathe.” She heard Drake’s soothing voice in her ear, but it didn’t help. Her heart was pounding and she was frozen in terror. There was nowhere she could have run, anyway; she was surrounded by fire on all sides. Hungry, growling fire that wanted to eat her alive.



She felt Drake shove his way into her mind. She didn’t know how he pushed through her frantic thoughts, but he was there. She could feel his cool, comforting presence blunting the edges of her terror.



“I won’t let you get hurt,” he whispered directly into her thoughts. She had no choice but to listen to him and try to believe him.



He captured her face in his big hands and forced her to look in his eyes. With his hands acting as blinders and his face filling the rest of her sight, she could no longer see the fire. She could hear it, she could sense its greedy presence only feet away, but the rest of her senses were filled with Drake. She could smell his skin and it roused a memory of his body moving over hers, filling her, driving her out of her mind with pleasure.



She was confused by such an intensely positive memory in the midst of so much fear, and that confusion forced her brain back into gear.



She pulled a deep breath back into her lungs and let it out again.



“That’s right. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”



The panic receded enough that she could focus on staying calm. Her fingers were clutched tight around his wrists and she forced herself to loosen her grip. “I’m okay,” she told him. It was far from the truth, but not so far that she couldn’t pretend she believed it.



“Good. You’re doing great, Helen.” He gave her a proud smile.



It was ridiculous. She was being a complete nutcase and he was proud of her.



“I’m going to take my hands down now, okay?”



She nodded.



“The fire is still going, but it can’t hurt you. Do you understand that?”



Not really, but she nodded anyway.



Slowly, Drake took his hands down and she could see fire in her peripheral vision. Her breathing sped, but she managed to keep herself together. She was going to do this, damn it. She was not going to let this fear of fire beat her. Especially not in front of Gilda. That’s what the woman wanted—for Helen to admit defeat before she’d even had a chance to try.



Drake straightened so that she was staring at his chest. She focused on the paler band of skin around his throat where the luceria had been for years. The rest of his skin was lightly tanned. She could see the tips of the leafy branches of his tree peeking out from under his open collar.



Helen didn’t want to look away. Drake was a much more appealing sight than the fire, but she had to be tougher than that. So she was. She gritted her teeth and turned her head so that she had no choice but to see the wall of fire only feet behind them.



It put off no heat. That was strange and it took her mind off the skittering pile of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She clamped down on that panic and controlled it by a sheer force of will.



“Is your lady well?” asked Gilda with a hint of smugness in her tone.



“Do you want me to make them stop?” Drake asked Helen in a voice meant only for her.



“No. Let’s get this over with.”



Drake raised his voice and addressed Gilda. “She is ready, Gray Lady.”



Helen was about to ask him why he’d called her that when she saw Gilda lift her arms over her head. This time, Helen braced herself for the worst, but no more fire spewed from the ground. Instead, on the far side of the circle where the men guarded the sword, she saw them start to change. The man closest to them—a large blond man with a scarred face—shimmered, as she’d seen Drake’s sword do when he was about to draw it. When the wavering stopped, he no longer looked human. He looked like one of those mosquito monsters.