Page 6 of The Mountain King
His eyes narrowed. Was she implying he was physically weak? “I’ll run with you, and see if there is anything I can do for your child.”
Her expression didn’t change. “And your price?”
Maddugh restrained his glee. This was bound to bespecialentertainment. “We’ll discuss that when I see your child.” The less entertaining the interlude, the steeper the price he would exact.
* * *
Seeinghim up close and relatively personal was different than watching him from afar. For one, his… presence… nearly overwhelmed her before she adjusted. It was just the natural strength of his personality. Kailigh wondered how his people managed to breathe the same air as him, or if they had developed natural shields over the years, like a magical callus. He stared at her with nearly gold eyes that seemed to pierce through her barriers and see into her soul. For a second she thought the pupils narrowed into slits. Kailigh grimaced from the melodrama of her thoughts. He was dragon, and a ruler at that. Of course, he would have a forceful personality.
The guard wanted to accompany them, and started to argue before a few low words cut the man off. Kailigh smiled, feeling a little snarky. She hadn’t appreciated the pat down, but had forced herself to submit to it when on a regular day, she would have cut the man for his temerity. She hadn’t lived for nearly half a century to allow little peasants like that to think they could run all over her. In the backwoods, away from all but the most basic of laws and technology, reputation was a woman’s best protection. That, and a gun.
* * *
It had beenan unpleasant surprise to pass Gaston on the path leading up to the castle doors. He’d glanced at her, and paused, expression incredulous.
“Mistress Kailigh? What are you doing here?”
She didn’t appreciate the tone of his voice. “None of your business, I suppose.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Another stony-faced guard stared back at them. “If you have an… audience… with the Lord, he’s not in the best of moods.” His eyes roved over her body, assessing her state of dress. Kailigh stiffened, a sour taste in her mouth. A man like him always assumed the only business a single woman had with a man was the kind that required payment up front before she stretched out on her back. She shook the irritation away. Gaston didn’t matter, the present mattered.
Keeping up with Maddugh mattered. They ran at a pace which appeared leisurely to the dragon Lord but which Kailigh had to concentrate to keep. She realized the great shape she’d always prided herself on was an illusion. As they ran, she considered whether training with Dwyrkin might improve her conditioning. It was a thought for another day. For now, she focused on not embarrassing herself. The fact that shecouldkeep up with him was marvel enough. Genes and determination, she supposed.
She tightened her jaw and banished thought. She needed to concentrate. And when this was done, she’d be upping her training regime as well.
* * *
Maddugh was thinkingthe same thing. The pace he set was for no slouch—and he deliberately, gradually, increased his stride to see how the woman would respond. He saw her set her face, grit her teeth and set to, breathing even, legs strong. How a human could keep up with him, he didn’t know.
Experimentally, he brushed up against her mind, something he rarely did with humans; wading through the chaos of their thoughts was like wading through honey… a smelly kind that didn’t come off in a normal wash. When he encountered a smooth steel wall, he was shocked enough that he almost stumbled. The woman was shielded. Granted, it was rudimentary, the untutored kind erected in emergencies, but he could tell it was old and entrenched. Now he really wanted to see her child, and the man who had fathered it. He frowned. Why was the mother coming and not the father? It didn’t sit well with him.
“Where is the child’s father?” he asked.
She replied, but he could tell it was an effort to keep her words even while she ran.
“Divorced. Years ago. Just me and the girls.”
Maddugh had assumed the woman belonged to someone. Single females who weren’t pleasure workers were rare in these lands, especially attractive single human females of the dangerous variety. Interest sharpened, a kind he hadn’t felt in several years. He’d always preferred his lovers with a certain edge and maturity, and it had been long enough he felt restless. The females available to him were… boring. Or too impressed with his rank and wealth to be much sport, in the bedroom or out. He missed his wife’s acerbic wit and dry candor, even if some days he couldn’t recall her face.
They arrived at her home in record time, a medium sized cabin set on a bit of cleared land with quite a large garden, lush with various vegetables and fruits she was growing. Another mark of her value. His people had trouble with their gardens, enough that he had to import food. The womanwouldowe him a favor, if he healed her daughter. His mind began to swirl with the possibilities of how he might collect.
They entered the house and he was led through a hallway to the back. The human knocked on the door quietly and opened it. The smell of sickness assailed him, two young women sitting guard over a third. Maddugh stared. And his suspicion that the woman by his side wasn’t fully human solidified. The mother’s eyes were a deep brown, unremarkable though lovely, a shade common amongst human and shifters. But the daughters—their eyes gave them away, throw backs to their Dwyrkin ancestor. No pure-blooded humans had eyes like that, coupled with the bone structure and focused way they regarded him. One of the young women—her queerness enrobed her the way his dragon enrobed him. He wondered what powers she would manifest when she reached full maturity.
“I thought your daughter would be a child—she is nearly adult.” He looked at the mother, eyes narrowed. The mother didn’t have the physical appearance of a woman with nearly adult children. She appeared little older than her daughters herself. “You aren’t human.”
The mother turned and pinned him with a hard look. “What?”
“You aren’t human,” he repeated, then moved forward to look at the girl lying on the bed. She was near death, lips gray and drawn. He’d seen lips that color before. Kneeling, he drew the blanket covering her away. The sister—the queer one—made a movement. He saw the mother—realizing he hadn’t asked her name—hold up a hand, the dragon Lord now mindful to tread carefully. He hadn’t lived this long by underestimating potential threats.
Maddugh turned his head to look at the eldest woman. “She has iron poisoning. You aren’t human.” Not fully, and with prodding the Dwyrkin side would emerge to the surface, enough that the humanity would become inconsequential. If iron affected her this badly, it was likely they were Dwyrkin Fae, a race biologically compatible with the dragons.
Four unwed women, with no protector, and a need to place themselves in his debt. Maddugh clamped down on his surge of avarice. How the hell had they lived all these years under his nose? Were his men blind as well as stupid? Non-human females shouldneverhave been allowed to live outside his city. They were too valuable, no matter what kind of Dwyrkin they were.
And what that meant for his people—he pushed aside the thought. For now, he had work to do, and then… he knew now what his price would be.
The woman’s dark eyes widened, then narrowed thoughtfully. Maddugh turned back to the girl and unraveled the bandages. A gunshot wound, the flesh grayed and dying.
“Doc got the bullet out,” the dark eyed one said, her voice low and raspy. Her aura was more… balanced, though she watched him just as closely, with the air of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to go for his throat.
