Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,21

She made a nest in one corner, then arranged her belongings to form a more or less comfortable bed. The day passed against a backdrop of heat, dust, and the rumble of wheels.

Sunlight filtered through the canvas stretched over the wagon’s arched iron frame, baking the air inside. When Leena woke from a nap, groggy with heat, she struggled to her knees and pulled a corner of the canvas aside to look out. With nothing to do, she’d been dozing on and off for hours. By the angle of the sun in the cloudless sky, it was late afternoon. A sea of parched scrubland stretched to the horizon, with no other life in sight.

Where were they? If they’d been following the Heartrun River to the coast, there would be crops and flocks of seabirds. The absence of anything but scrub and dust meant they were traveling to Tymeera overland. There would be nothing but desert for hundreds of miles.

Leaning out, she caught a glimpse of the piebald horse pulling her wagon, its feathered hooves maintaining a slow trudge in the dust. The driver, or what little she could see of him, had the stocky build of a human. Every army employed mortals in such roles, but only the most desperate worked for the Shades.

Her wagon—one of many—was somewhere near the end of a long column of cavalry and foot soldiers. When she tried to guess the total number of soldiers, she failed. The line of moving bodies snaked out of sight. Most were Shades, their hooded cloaks wrapped tightly around them. They could move in daylight, but only with discomfort. If Juradoc was marching his army this hard, he had plans.

Leena pulled her head inside, dizzy with panic. She was alone in the enemy’s army with Morran—a prisoner and madman—as her only ally. How long he would help her was unknown. Until he lost the thread of his reason? Until he realized she couldn’t cure him? Or would Juradoc destroy her first?

And every Shade was, by definition, a killer of fae. She was a scrap of meat among a starving pack of wolves. Yet, if she ran, the chances of surviving the wastelands were painfully slim.

She was an idiot to come here.

I did this for Fionn, she reminded herself. For Elodie. Terror chittered in the back of her mind. Her brother’s future depended on Morran—assuming she could find a way to restore the prince. She was gambling everything on healing him, though she had little information to work with.

The one good thing was that thinking about Morran steadied her nerves. Despite everything, he was a reassuring presence—and an intriguing one. Leena fanned her face, not sure how much heat was due to the memory of Morran’s mouth on hers. That couldn’t happen again.

She slumped down, unscrewing the top of her flask to take a swallow of water. It was warm, but it cleared the dust from her burning throat. As she fastened the top again, she considered what step to take first. Her biggest problem—Shades aside—was a scarcity of facts about Morran’s condition. Every patient had a history, which played a vital role in diagnosis, which led to a cure. Until she knew the details of his story, she was fencing in the dark.

And the next time they spoke, she would stay on topic. No kissing. No losing herself in the sensation of those huge arms around her body.

A small black head poked out from between the grain sacks. “You’re finally awake.”

Leena squeaked in fright. “Kifi!”

Terror gutted her. One of the guards could squash the kitten in one hand—but common sense had never clouded Kifi’s personal sky. Ever.

Annoyance swiftly followed. “What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” Kifi asked, hopping onto Leena’s lap.

“Idiot.” Overcome, Leena scooped Kifi up and pushed her face into her soft black fur. She must have squeezed a little too hard because Kifi mewed in protest.

“Why aren’t you at the temple?” Leena demanded.

Kifi struggled out of her grasp, landing in her lap. “Upon reflection, I could not refuse this opportunity for adventure.”

“You’re still a kitten. Travel is forbidden.”

“This is my chance to see the Queen of Cats,” Kifi said without apology. “How can I not take that up as my mission? Such an opportunity may never come again in my lifetime.”

“It’s a risk.”

“What in Faery is not these days?”

The feline had a point. “I might not make it to Tymeera.”

The two stared at one another for a moment, the cat’s golden eyes meeting