A Hand Weaving Chaos (Book 2 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Graceless to the last, Jill burst from the portal on her hands and knees. She tried to protect her scarred hands, coming to rest awkwardly on her elbows before collapsing on her right shoulder. The ground came up hard and fast, and her landing brought the sharp sting of tears to her eyes. Next time, she would aim for something softer.

She groaned at the thought. Next time? Why would I want to endure a next time?

Immediately, she reset her stripped wards. All magic receded. After the thrashing she had just received from Kachine, the absence of magic was a welcome relief. She sighed. If it were up to her, there would be no more magic today. Somehow though, if Astera and company had their way, she doubted she'd get a say in that.

A blast of icy wind hit her full in the face. Swiping strands of long blond hair aside, Jill sat back on her heels, her gown a pool of grey fabric. She shivered in the thin material and found herself remarkably underdressed now that she knelt outside in the compound's main courtyard on frigid, broken cobblestones. Looming over her with its single bell-tower was the Temple of the Wind.

How did I get out here? What did Kachine do to me?

She looked about wildly. Horses shuffled about nearby—a bay, two chestnut, a pale grey were visible from her vantage point. Beyond that, she could only see their thin, muscled legs. Dozens of people stood dazed confusion, scratching their heads and looking up at the sky then at each other. Giddiness swept over her. It had worked! The portal had actually worked!

Directly before her pranced a skittish horse. She scuttled back to avoid its hooves. Peering up the long stallion's legs, Jill found Damek sitting astride the beast, fighting for control and looking utterly confused. She watched with awe as the Shey'na'shen swore impressively and brought the horse to heel. He then slid down from the saddle and nearly stepped on Jill before she could scramble further away.

"Somebody better tell me where the bloody hell I am and what the hell just happened!" he roared.

Without meaning to, Jill laughed as Damek shouted obscenities she thought him too well-mannered to utter. 'Guess you never know about some people,' she reflected as the sandy-haired young man continued to irately hop from one foot to the other.

"Glad you could drop in," Jill found the voice to say. She beamed up at him, unable to control the grin. "You're at the Temple of the Wind, in Valinac."

Damek turned, his hand already at his sword, ready to draw it from its sheath. He paused midway and glared stonily at her.

His face split a grin. "Jill!" he cried, hoisting her bodily off the ground and swinging her around. "We thought you were dead!"

"Guess I'm tougher to kill than you thought," she offered once Damek put her down.

Bewildered, he looked about. "Sweet goddess! One moment, we're riding flat out across the countryside, the next we're here. Amazing! I should have known you were behind the portal."

"I'd say she's behind a hell of a lot more than I'd like," Rafe said, wading around the sea of horses to appear beside Damek. He eyed Jill balefully. "Looks like being captured by the enemy agrees with you. It appears all those days we spent living in the saddle racing to get here turned out to be a waste. Glad to see my time was so well spent."

Jill frowned up at the big man in his travel-stained tunic and breeches. Even with her wards, she could clearly sense fury radiating off him in waves. In the past few days, something had altered in him. She didn't know why, but Rafe had surpassed mild dislike and gone on to well and truly hating her. Oddly, because other people's opinions of her so often consumed her, she found she really didn't care how he felt. Maybe the fact that she'd just been pounded so furiously by both Tamas and Kachine had something to do with it. Then again, maybe she was growing up.