A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,63

wrong woman."

He snuffed the light, pocketed the folded paper and reached for her, cupping her shadowed face in his hands.

"Stay deep in the trees and don't take any risks.

Promise?" "I promise."

She met his kiss, hers as fiercely delivered as his own then he pulled back, forcing his hands to release her.

"Be careful."

"Always."

He caught the flash of a smile before she turned and took off running with her usual lithe grace, her steps sure and silent.

His heart pounded with fear for her as it never did for himself.

How would he survive if he lost her? Tarrys ran through the dark woods, marveling anew that in this lonely forest, her people had once thrived.

In this place of fears, she belonged.

Above her, the soft whoosh of bird wings sounded overhead, the birds following her still, though the other creatures had disappeared as night fell.

When she'd traveled far enough that the Esri shouldn't be watching this direction, she turned back toward the clearing and stopped as something in the forest caught her eye - a tree in the distance, its yellow bark glowing faintly.

Her pulse began to race as she stared at it, recognizing the tree from the second vision.

The tree that had marked the priestesses' secret chamber.

Chill bumps rose on her arms.

Could the chamber still be there even though the priestesses were long gone? Likely no one had been in that place since that fateful day.

No one had gazed on those paintings, nor ever would again.

She thought of the sisters, and of the lovers torn apart before they'd ever truly been together.

The look she'd seen in the man's eyes made her own burn with unwanted tears.

So much love destroyed.

She wanted to believe the two had found a way, somehow, to be together.

But she knew the Esri.

She knew what life was like for the enslaved.

As she started toward the clearing, her heart felt heavy with sadness.

How much harder must it have been for those who'd known freedom and power? For those learned, talented men and women with rich lives and deep loves to have their lives stripped from them? To have their loves sold off or raped before their eyes? No, it was better to never have known such freedom.

Even for her now, going back to enslavement would be a thousand times worse than it had been before.

Silently, she crept toward the clearing until the red glow separated, revealing red, blue and orange crystals scattered among the structures.

Even the structures themselves began to take shape through the veil of trees.

The village clearing appeared wide, easily as large as a human's city block, dotted with roofless structures that appeared to have been hewn from the wood of the forest trees, then sanded, carved and painted with intricate care.

They appeared to be furnished in the Esrian fashion with tables and stools, the columns draped with long lengths of colorful silks, the benches and floors littered with pillows in every hue.

In the center of the clearing stood the temple the priestesses had spoken of, rising high above the other structures, strong and proud.

Built of red stone, the temple stood as high as a three-story apartment building, built in the shape of a pyramid, its four sides made of stairs rising to the very top.

Each stair appeared to have been painted with small, intricate designs.

Swirls, perhaps? Or flowers? She could almost imagine what it would have been like all those years ago, the ancient Marceils walking through the temple village with pride, discussing and debating issues of the mind as a child laughed and scampered around them.

Musicians playing, dancers moving in graceful dances between the pillars.

And lovers walking hand in hand, dreams in their eyes.

Now the village served as a prison, though the only structure that might possibly hold anyone was the temple itself.

Was the princess being held there? Was there any need to hold her at all, given that she couldn't escape the clearing? Tarrys crept closer and closer until she finally had an unobstructed view.

Of the Esri.

Her pulse leaped to her throat as she saw them, their backs pressed to the trees Charlie would pass if he attempted to breach the village.

Each Esri held either a bow or a knife glittering in the crystal light.

She could shoot them so easily from here, but without the fire from Charlie's lighter, and his whispering the death chant, her arrows would do nothing but cause them a few seconds of pain.

A movement along the side of the structure closest to Charlie drew her attention.

A woman.

She was tied to one