Blood Runner: Book Three of the Empress Saga

CHAPTER FOUR

Enfri could feel the sweat beading upon her brow. She took uneven breaths, labored and painful. Her muscles and joints ached, every movement bringing retribution. It was torturous. Her blood burned with its need for what she denied it.

"I am here, my heart," Jin whispered to her. She had a strong voice, but it was gentle. Dark in timbre and hypnotic.

Fingers brushed against Enfri's face. This was her light. Her love. Enfri squeezed the hand holding hers. She knew Jin was with her, and that knowledge eased her pain.

Deep inside Enfri's core, a different presence mingled with her soul. It was as comforting to Enfri as the hand she held. All her life, it had been there. Protecting her. Teaching her. Enfri had never known herself without it, and she didn't care to. The presence belonged to Enfri's mother of the heart, and Deebee was a far gentler parent than the woman who bore her. Mighty and clever and ancient, her silver Storyteller.

Enfri now suffered the price for her actions. A choice, perhaps a foolish one, brought her to this state. Power and safety at the expense of her body and health. The oren gave much, but nothing in this world came without a cost.

Time had lost meaning for Enfri. The waxing and waning of her pain was the only ticking clock she had to measure the minutes and hours. The days. As Enfri began to feel an oncoming fear, that this pain and darkness would never end, she opened her eyes.

The first sight to greet Enfri from the darkness was a young woman, beautiful and strong. The muscles of her bare arms were developed and powerful. Her shoulder-length black hair was straight, yet it managed to find itself in disarray. She possessed a dainty nose, full lips, a strong jawline, and pristinely pale skin. Austere features for a stoic warrior. Princess Jin Algara's tilted and narrow eyes were closed, her lips were slightly parted, and her head leaned against the back of the chair at Enfri's bedside. She was at rest, and one that Jin richly deserved.

Jin's hand rested on Enfri's arm, her pale skin a contrast against Enfri's umber tones. The worry that Jin had remained there since Enfri's ordeal began was a pressing one. Surely, someone would have nagged Jin to see to herself. It was sometimes hard to see her as a mere mortal, but she was as human as anyone.

The scars Jin bore attested to that. An ivory slash crossed Jin's left cheek. It was what remained of the wound Josy gave her. Most of her injuries, small cuts and burns, left marks that were all but invisible and would fade with time. Others, like the pale slash or the long gouges beneath her armor on her abdomen, would be carried for the rest of her life.

Enfri felt tears welling up in her eyes. It seemed that since the two of them met and fell in love, the assassin was slowly being ripped apart, and not only physically. It was all Enfri could do at times to keep her held together.

For now, Jin could sleep.

Enfri lay abed in a room with nautical tapestries hanging on the limestone walls. Fine, wooden furniture sat about in rearranged jumbles. It seemed that a large number of people had come through here, and they had sat with her in watches.

This was the chamber Pacifica had given her within the royal wing of the Salt Stone Palace. Since leaving her little cottage on the desert's edge, Enfri had never spent more time bedding down in the same place.

Enfri turned her head with much difficulty. She was weak. Winds and storms, she had never felt so weak in all her life. Not when she had been half-dead of dehydration in the desert, or even when she had been all-dead to circumvent an interdiction spell.

I guess compared to that, Enfri thought, I really can't complain about this. She tried to push herself up on an elbow, failed miserably, and flopped back down onto her pillow. I'm alive, such as it is.