Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,64

with concern as he scanned the surrounding desert. “There is no one else nearby,” he said.

“No sign of Fionn?” she asked anxiously.

“No, none. We need to get Anna to the camp,” he said.

“We could go back to the temple.” Anna was a shifter, but she couldn’t change form when she was out cold. Anna needed a healer and a stable place to recover.

“We are closer to the camp now,” Morran pointed out. “We’re more exposed if we backtrack, and it’s hard to run or fight with wounded in the party.”

Leena had to agree. Improvising, she used Anna’s jacket to immobilize her injured arm. Then Morran picked Anna up, cradling her in his arms. With that, they resumed their path toward the camp, moving as quickly as they could.

They’d only gone a hundred yards before a dragon launched from the direction of the camp, arrowing upward into the sky. Leena ducked reflexively as the shadow fell over her. It was the same gray creature she’d seen from the pyramid’s window, possibly heading out again on patrol. She’d never seen a dragon’s fire, but she’d heard legends of its deadly destruction.

When she glanced at Morran, he was transfixed by the spectacle, stark longing on his face. How, she wondered, did a dragon’s flight compare with the phoenix? Was Morran’s creature as lethal and beautiful as everyone said? Those were questions she dared not ask as Morran forced his gaze to the earth and marched onward, his face carefully blank.

The ground rose as they left the pyramids behind. From the higher vantage point, Leena saw the landscape was a patchwork of gold and ochre bleached by the harsh sun. The barren earth rolled in a series of shallow valleys that ended in distant, jagged hills.

As they crested the rise, Morran made a noise of recognition mixed with something that was almost pleasure. Tents spread out in the nearest valley, hidden from the enemy’s scouts by the shape of the land. He was, after a fashion, home.

Leena’s chest eased with relief. The camp was entirely different from Juradoc’s. The fae’s tents bloomed in silks of green, blue, and scarlet, each according to its owner’s lineage and alliance. Snatches of pipe and fiddle music wafted on the breeze, urging her to dance. As they drew closer, she smelled roasting meat, the savory scent teasing her appetite.

Morran pushed forward until they were intercepted by the camp guards. These were fae from the forest tribes—Leena recognized their small, compact frames and dark brown hair. They wore intricately etched armor studded with precious stones.

Steel whispered as the guards drew their swords. The leader stepped into Morran’s path, his frown curious but still polite. Tension hummed in the air as the guard considered Anna’s still form with concern. “How do you come to be here, strangers? It’s a long way to the nearest dwellings.”

“And it’s an even longer story. I must speak with your commander,” Morran said, no hesitation in his tone.

“I insist you answer my question first,” the guard replied. “The commander’s time is not to be squandered.”

“He will know me.”

“But I do not.”

The impasse was broken by another figure who approached from behind the guards. Since his armor had far more gold ornament, Leena assumed he was important.

“Is there something amiss?” the newcomer asked.

“Captain Kelagras,” Morran said, a note of pleasure in his voice. “You still wear the colors of Tymeera’s cavalry, I see.”

The officer stopped, staring at Morran. He was lithe and dark-haired, his eyes a deep amber that edged to gold. After a moment, he executed a deep bow.

“I see I have surprised you,” Morran said.

“Indeed, Your Highness,” Kelagras stammered. “I am more than delighted to see you.”

“I have traveled hard to rejoin my men.” Morran shifted Anna’s weight ever so slightly.

“You have been absent a long time, my prince,” Kelagras said, recovering his composure. “We heard you were a guest of the Shade they call Juradoc.”

Morran’s face grew stony. “Not a guest, but a prisoner.”

Kelagras drew himself up as if on parade. “Are you here to take command?”

“No general can command unless his soldiers wish it.”

“What would you be your first order?”

Morran nodded toward Anna. “Look after this woman. She is brave and loyal.”

The captain nodded to his men, who sheathed their weapons. “A good commander sees to his soldiers first.”

Two of the men took Anna from Morran’s arms, then hurried toward the medical facilities. Leena met Morran’s eyes. He gave a single nod in response to her silent question. Leena was a healer,