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    Crystal Moon

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      “I’ll see to the rest later. Destroy the nika,” he said. “There

      will be a few less addicts to serve DiSanti’s plans.”

      “No, you mustn’t!” She hurried to Kyne’s side.

      Frowning, he dismissed the steward and turned to face

      her. “Mustn’t what?”

      The crowd around them melted away, leaving her alone

      with Kyne. Apprehension rippled through her, but she pushed

      her doubts and fears aside. For Graham she would dare Kyne’s

      wrath for what she was about to ask. At her side, Warda leaned

      against her knees, his presence a solid comfort.

      “Graham does well enough, for the moment, but I have

      need of certain supplies and some assistance.”

      “Whatever is necessary will be provided.”

      “Do I have your word on that, Rul?”

      “Of course.” Suspicion darkened his gaze. “What do you

      require?”

      Though expected, his continued mistrust hurt. Would he

      ever regard her as other than her father’s daughter? See her

      as a person in her own right?

      She glanced around. Curious stares and hushed whispers

      indicated the crowd’s interest. “May we speak more privately?”

      Arms crossed over his chest, his legs spread in a stance of

      command, he stared down at her. “Why? Do you anticipate an

      argument? If I have the ability to provide the items, you will

      have them. Do you doubt my word?”

      “No, only your temper, my lord.”

      “I am the most temperate of men.” He silenced the chuckles

      from the crowd with a hostile look.

      “Very well. I need several strong men to hold Graham down

      as I set his bones.”

      “This is not a problem. What else?”

      She wet her lips and continued. “Alt root will not do to dull

      Graham’s pain for the setting of his bones. Something stronger

      is required, or the shock alone will kill him.” Mouth dry, she

      placed her hand on Kyne’s arm and willed him to read her

      intent in this matter. For once she wished for the strange

      connection between them. She spoke softly, for his ears alone.

      “I do not ask this lightly. The only anesthetic that will work is

      distilled from the nika root. I must have a quantity of the root.”

      Other than the tensing of his arm muscles and a small twitch

      at the corner of his pressed lips, he did not react. She felt nothing

      of his emotions, nor did his eyes betray the anger she knew

      must be brewing within him. His stillness fueled her fear. Not

      for herself, but for Graham. Without the body-numbing drug,

      Graham stood no chance of survival.

      “Time is of the essence,” she hurried on. “The longer the

      delay in setting Graham’s bones, the less likely he will regain

      the use of them. Don’t let your fears and prejudices blind you.

      Trust me in this matter.”

      Kyne gripped her upper arm. Sensing a coming storm,

      people fled as he pulled her across the hall and up the stairs to

      his chamber. Thrusting her inside, he commanded Warda to

      remain without. With a whine of protest, Warda positioned

      himself in front of the closing door.

      The bolt slid home with an ominous clank. A niggle of fear

      jolted Sianna. Kyne would not harm her. Would he? His cold,

      dark eyes and tense stance made her convictions waver. She

      stepped back as he advanced on her. When the table blocked

      her backward movement, she braced her palms against its edge

      and lifted her gaze to his.

      “You dare too much, woman. Trust you! Why?” He leaned

      over her, and his body’s heat melted the chill of the room.

      Warm and solid, he stirred more than fear in her. Unfamiliar

      feelings quickened inside her. Though he didn’t touch her, for a

      heartbeat she felt a thread of connection between them, and

      his glare softened into confusion.

      “Since I’ve been here have I done anything to harm you or

      your people?” The thread snapped, and his gaze hardened. He

      didn’t respond and her hopes faltered, but she pressed on. “I

      cannot help the blood that flows in my veins, but I am not my

      father. His crimes are not mine. Can you not see me for who I

      am?”

      “Who are you?” Loud and harsh with restrained anguish,

      he growled the question at her. His fingers curled around her

      shoulders, and he pulled her against him.

      Heat and longing jolted through her, nearly hiding the flicker

      of his emotion that touched her. He wanted to believe her, but

      refused to allow himself any weakness. She struggled to latch

      onto his thoughts and feelings, to form a connection, but her

      body’s responses to his touch defeated her. All she could do

      was ride the waves of sensation crashing through her. Did he

      feel what she felt? Or was he immune to these physical

      sensations?

      “Aubin was no fool, yet you lured him to his death with

      your false innocence.” With a shove he released her, and she

      stumbled against the table. The self-disgust in his voice shattered

      the spell his touch had created. “Such an accomplished actress

      could no doubt beguile even me—if I let you. I’ll not trust you.”

      She straightened, refusing to cower or admit to the pain his

      words caused. Could she tell him the truth? Break her silence

      and reveal her identity? Could she betray Laila to gain favor in

      Kyne’s eyes?

      Perhaps there was another way. “And what of your word?”

      Color drained from his skin. “You shall have the men you

      need.”

      “And the nika root?”

      “No. In this matter, Graham’s welfare means more to me

      than my honor.”

      “Without my skill Graham will die, if not from his injuries

      then because he chooses not to live. Why can’t you put aside

      your doubts about my sincerity and give me the chance to try to

      save him? Search your heart. Do you truly distrust me? Or

      does fear hold you back? I’ve already offered my life in

      guarantee of Graham’s, what more do you wish for? Tell me

      and it’s yours,” she pleaded.

      “Return to your patient.”

      “And the nika?”

      “No.” Hard and implacable, Kyne’s expression killed

      Sianna’s hope. Still, she argued.

      “But....”

      “Go now before I do something you’ll regret.”

      ***

      Stubborn man. Like a thrust of his crystal blade deep within

      Sianna’s heart, Kyne’s lack of trust hurt. Couldn’t he see beyond

      her birth? No. Blinded by hatred and ignorance, he would

      hesitate until Graham’s life was forfeited. She refused to allow

      that to happen. Not while the solution lay within her grasp.

      She slipped out the chamber door and down the stairs, intent

      on her goal. No one took note of her passage as she made her

      way toward the wagons in the courtyard. Though subdued

      because of Graham’s injury, an air of celebration hovered in

      the castle. The loaded caravan would provide for all throughout

      the coming winter. Under the direction of the castle steward,

      people unloaded and stored away the various goods—food, cloth,


      house and farm implements, and weapons. Sianna shuddered

      at the thought of future battles and injured men.

      A smaller wagon filled with medicines stood to one side.

      Kyne had ordered the nika destroyed, but she knew the steward

      needed to sort through the contents of the wagon before doing

      so. For now the wagon sat abandoned.

      The nika’s distinctively sweet aroma guided her to its

      location. Package after package of pressed blossoms filled the

      air around the wagon with a heady scent, intoxicating in itself,

      enough nika to addict everyone within the castle. Kyne was

      right to destroy these packages of future misery. Darting a look

      over her shoulder, she prayed there was some root, and dug

      deeper into the wagon.

      A smell similar to the nika blossom, though moist, pungent

      and somehow cleaner, wafted under her nose. With eager fingers

      she grabbed and tore open the lumpy bag. Gnarled and dirt-

      crusted, the size of her clenched fist, a dark purple root with

      pale pink flesh rewarded her effort.

      Shoving the root into her pocket, she glanced around. No

      one seemed to have noticed her. Fear battled with satisfaction.

      Satisfaction won. She would deal with Kyne’s anger later. For

      now, she hurried to the herb room to begin her preparations.

      Graham had no time to spare.

      ***

      Questions and doubts chased through Kyne’s mind, but no

      answers.

      What more do you want from me? Sianna’s words lingered.

      What could he take without condemning his ka to

      damnation? Her body? Her heart? Her ka? Despite the

      evidence, he fought against giving this daughter of DiSanti his

      trust.

      What was this strange connection he felt whenever he was

      near to her? Was it just lust? He doubted it. At eight and twenty

      annum, he was no boy to be swayed by a desirable body and

      honeyed words—though few of Sianna’s words were sweet.

      Her innocence had to be false, a chimera sent to tempt him to

      destruction.

      Yet how earnest she sounded as she argued her case, and

      her words held more truth than not. Since her arrival at the

      castle, she’d done nothing but good for his people. Order now

      reigned where before chaos held sway. Hot, tasty meals

      appeared at regular intervals. Clean, scented rushes covered

      the hard stone floors. People went about their tasks with smiles,

      and hope filled the air. All these things he knew had been

      accomplished through Sianna’s efforts. Only the question of

      why haunted him. Did she seek to gain their trust to betray

      them? Or was she as she seemed, another victim of her father’s

      ambition and greed?

      The decision rested heavily on Kyne’s heart and shoulders.

      If he withheld his trust, would Graham die? Despite her bold

      claims, no man could survive injuries such as Graham’s. If nika

      could ease Graham’s passage to eternity, what right did he have

      to deny him? What would he lose that was not already lost?

      Was his honor worth Graham’s suffering?

      ***

      Shoulders and hips colliding, Kyne, Sianna and two men

      crowded into the tiny chamber. Kyne looked at Graham’s

      colorless, pain-racked face and felt the blood drain from his

      own. The smell of blood, sweat, and pending death hung in the

      room’s still, warm air. Could he stay and watch his friend suffer

      and die? Why did he allow this woman, this witch, to torment

      them with false hope?

      “Position yourselves one on each side of Graham’s hips,”

      she directed the two men. Chosen for their strength and steady

      nerves, the men showed no emotion as they followed her orders.

      “Rul Cathor, would you stand at his head?”

      Brisk and efficient, her tone brooked no refusal. He moved

      to Graham’s head. Sweat drenched Graham’s body and

      plastered his hair to his skull like an obscene death cap.

      Sianna stepped to Graham’s side, and her shoulder brushed

      against Kyne’s. Clean and fresh as the mountain air, her scent

      filled his nose. His body grew taut and hard. He jerked away.

      She gave him a curious glance then leaned over the bed

      and laid her palm against Graham’s forehead.

      “Graham? Can you hear me?”

      Graham’s eyes flickered open. Dull with pain, his gaze

      fastened on her. “Yes,” his voice cracked.

      “I have something to lessen your pain. Drink.” Lifting

      Graham’s head with one hand, she held a cup to his lips.

      A familiar odor banished her scent from Kyne’s nostrils.

      “What are you giving him?”

      “Nika root.” Her soft words reached no further than his

      ears.

      He grabbed her wrist. “You dare defy me?”

      She flinched at the pressure of his fingers, but met his gaze

      boldly. “For the good of my patient I dare much. Will you stop

      me?”

      From the connection of their flesh, her emotions flowed

      into him. Her wave of love for Graham washed away Kyne’s

      rage. Whoever this woman was he knew she wouldn’t hurt

      Graham. Another feeling lurked just out of range of his senses,

      but fear of what he might find kept him from searching. He

      dropped her wrist.

      “No, I’ll not stop you. But be warned you’ll pay dearly for

      betrayal.”

      Hurt darkened her eyes. She nodded and turned her attention

      to Graham.

      “Drink,” she urged.

      Graham drank and grimaced. “Bitter,” he complained.

      Kyne watched as Graham’s eyelids drooped, and his

      features lost their contortion of pain.

      “Graham?” Sianna questioned.

      “Hmmm....” he murmured.

      “I don’t want to put you completely out while I set your

      bones. If I do I’m afraid you may not awaken again. Can you

      stand the pain?”

      “Have I a choice?”

      “There are always choices. With life comes pain,” she

      answered.

      Her words held a wealth of wisdom for one so young. Had

      she, Kyne wondered, learned of pain at her father’s hand?

      She pulled back the blanket covering Graham’s lower torso.

      “It is time.”

      Kyne couldn’t prevent his gasp of horror. Even the two

      soldiers blanched and looked away. Pale skin stretched tight

      over Graham’s swollen, twisted limbs, while white bone flecked

      with rusty red pierced through mangled flesh.

      “Be strong, Graham.” Cupping his face in her hands, Sianna

      leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. Then she

      straightened and squeezed past Kyne to stand at the foot of the

      bed.

      “Are you ready?” she asked, her question for all, but her

      gaze rested on Kyne. Four heads nodded. With both hands she

      gripped one of Graham’s legs. Her slender fingers barely circled

      his ankle. “Hold him steady.”

      Kyne braced himself and pressed Graham’s upper body

      firmly against the bed. The other men held Graham’s hips in

      place.

      Sianna lifted Graham’s leg and gave a quick twist and pull.

      Graham stiffened and gave a c
    hoked cry, but didn’t move. Bone

      ground against bone, then settled into alignment. Sweat dripped

      down Sianna’s flushed face. Her hair, pulled back and away

      from her face, escaped its confines and clung to her damp

      cheeks.

      Running her hand over the leg from ankle to thigh, she

      gave a relieved sigh. “One more, my friend, and the worst is

      past.”

      “No more,” Graham groaned.

      “Give him more pain killer,” Kyne said.

      She shook her head. All color vanished from her face. “I

      dare not.”

      Anger at his friend’s suffering made Kyne harsh. Honor

      be damned. He would eat nika himself to spare Graham. “Do

      you take pleasure in his pain? He cannot stand more.”

      “He must.”

      “I will,” Graham gasped between clenched teeth. “Do

      it...now....”

      “Kyne, come here. You,” Sianna directed one of the men,

      “take Kyne’s place.”

      Kyne stood at Graham’s feet, his hip pressed against

      Sianna’s. Pale as a crystal moon, she swayed into him.

      Exhaustion swamped him. His? Or hers? He wasn’t sure.

      “Grip his leg here and here.” She placed his hands on

      Graham’s twisted and shattered limb. Against his battle-scarred

      hands, her slim, white fingers looked fragile.

      In contrast to her icy touch, the heat of Graham’s flesh

      burned his palms.

      “When I tell you, push the bone back into place and hold it

      while I stitch the wound closed. You men keep him from

      thrashing.”

      At her signal, Kyne did as directed.

      Pain and fear not his own jolted through Kyne. Instinctively

      he tried to pull away, but he couldn’t break Sianna’s grip. She

      went rigid and locked his hands in place with her own.

      Graham screamed, lurched upward, then his big body went

      limp. With surprisingly little effort the bone slid back beneath

      muscle and skin.

      Exhilaration flowed through Kyne. Deep inside, something

      he couldn’t name quickened, a swirl of strength beyond the

      physical grew and demanded release. Like liquid sunshine, a

      glow flowered around their joined hands and spilled out over

      Graham.

      Unwilling to believe, wanting to deny the communion

      between Sianna and himself, Kyne squeezed his eyes shut and

      waited. Minutes or hours passed, he lost any sense of time,

      then the warmth ebbed leaving him drained and cold. He blinked

     


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