The Invisible Ring bj-4 Read online

  “I know you’ve been feeling a little . . . overprotective . . . lately,” Blaed began cautiously.

  “You’ve got balls to say that to me,” Jared snapped.

  “The point is,” Blaed hurried on, “does Lady Lia have to stay in the wagon? And there’s no point snarling about it not being the proper form of address. Tomas started calling her that and, since she didn’t mind, the rest of us just followed his lead.”

  But not in front of him, Jared thought. They’d called her Lady Ardelia when he’d been within earshot. He understood why, but it still made him snappish. “The Lady has healed remarkably well, but she’s in no condition to be walking for hours over rough ground.”

  “She doesn’t have to walk,” Blaed soothed. “If we used some blankets for padding and she bundled up well so she wouldn’t get chilled, couldn’t she sit on the driving seat for a while?”

  Jared’s teeth hurt. He tried to relax his jaw. “What’s that got to do with the horses?”

  Blaed sighed. “Thayne’s real good with animals. Better than anyone else I know.” He sighed again. “He thinks they miss her. You didn’t spend much time leading them, so you probably didn’t have the chance to notice the difference in how they responded whenever she took a turn at walking. Didn’t you wonder why she always stayed near the wagon? It’s because whenever she moved too far away, they tried to follow her. One time when she went into the bushes to answer a call of nature, the only thing that stopped them from going with her was Garth grabbing the harness and digging his heels in. And she sings to them.”

  Jared rubbed his hands over his face. Great. Wonderful. “Didn’t you explain to them that Lia’s in the wagon?”

  “She’s downwind, Jared.”

  “Fine. All right. I’ll ask her.”

  Giving Jared’s shoulder a cautious pat, Blaed stepped out of reach.

  Jared marched to the back of the wagon and spent a minute glaring at the door. The horses weren’t the only ones sulking today. She’d let him fuss yesterday. It was the only thing that had gotten him through the rut. Sex might have helped, but he wasn’t sure. The kind of sexual fury that had roared through him wouldn’t have been easy to control, and there had been times yesterday when he’d been clearheaded enough to imagine what he’d be like in bed.

  It had terrified him, and he’d clung to the knowledge of Lia’s virginity like an emotional lifeline. Even the rut was daunted by the risks and responsibilities of the Virgin Night.

  So he’d fussed. He’d pampered and petted. He’d kissed and cuddled. She’d asked him to brush her hair. She’d let him feed her. She’d rubbed his back, making him ache for release and yet soothing him until it was almost enough.

  Between the times when he’d gone to the wagon for the relief her presence gave him, he’d tried to work off the energy, tried not to see the other males as rivals.

  It had been a physical and emotional strain for everyone, and he’d blinked back tears when, halfway through the restless night, he’d felt the rut waning.

  He hadn’t realized something else would wane, too.

  He’d said good night to Lady Cuddles, and woke up to Lady Grumpy.

  “Jared?” Tomas peeked around the side of the wagon.

  “You don’t want to be around here during the next few minutes,” Jared growled.

  Owl-eyed, Tomas darted back to the others.

  Taking a deep breath, Jared rapped on the wagon door— more a warning than a request to enter—opened the door, and ducked the boot that went whizzing over his head. He got the door closed before the second boot, aimed lower, could join its partner.

  Retrieving the boot, he rushed into the wagon, tripped over the other boot, and swore.

  She was sitting in the dark. Naturally. What good was sulking if you made yourself comfortable?

  He made a ball of witchlight, then leaned against the door.

  After one good glare at him, Lia stared at her feet.

  Jared waggled the boot. “Didn’t your grandmother ever tell you it isn’t courteous to throw a boot at your escort?”

  “Go sit on a pricker bush.”

  So much for courtesy.

  On the other hand, since she wouldn’t let him fuss, annoying her was almost as pleasing.

  Settling back to enjoy himself, Jared shook his head and tsked sadly. “It wounds my tender sensibilities to hear you say that.”

  “If you sat on a pricker bush, your sensibilities aren’t the only tender things that would be wounded.”

  Jared narrowed his eyes and tried to remember he was enjoying himself. “You let me fuss yesterday.”

  “That was yesterday. I’m mad at you today.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Lia’s voice rose to an outraged screech. “Why? Because I let you fuss yesterday. I let you treat me like some oversize baby bird whose mama keeps stuffing it with food—”

  “I didn’t stuff you,” Jared grumbled.

  “—I didn’t argue with you when you snarled everyone out of the wagon or when you got nasty with Tomas—”

  “I didn’t get nasty.”

  “—I didn’t say a word when you bundled me up in so many blankets I couldn’t move at all. All right. Fine. You needed to fuss. But that’s no excuse for today.”

  “Today?” Jared raised his hand to rake his fingers through his hair and almost clobbered himself with the boot. Tossing it aside, he rubbed his hands over his face. Was aggravation supposed to be one of the privileges of serving? “What did I do today?”

  His ignorance seemed to outrage her even more.

  “Thera’s moontime isn’t any further along than mine, but do you fuss about her? No.”

  Jared bristled. “Blaed doesn’t need any help fussing about Thera.”

  “Doesn’t matter. The point is, you insisted that we stay in the wagon yesterday, and we did. But this morning, when Thera decided to walk, you didn’t say a thing. Not the littlest yip or snarl. Then when I said I wanted to walk, you bundled me up and chucked me in here. That’s why I’m mad at you.” Lia sat back, crossed her arms, and pouted.

  “That has nothing to do with your moontime,” Jared shouted. “It has everything to do with the fact that Thera has two legs that work and you don’t.”

  Her lower lip quivered.

  Jared took a deep breath and released it slowly. He’d seen too many sulks and pouts used as manipulative games. Most of the time it had brought an edge to his temper and a stubborn refusal to respond. But he suspected this wasn’t Lia’s usual way of dealing with opposition of any kind. She had the safety of eleven other people weighing on her young shoulders, and she was feeling the strain.

  “Look,” Jared said, trying to bring his voice back to soothing, “when we stop to rest for the midday meal, you can walk around a bit.”

  “We’re not moving now,” Lia pointed out.

  Which reminded him of why he was there in the first place. “That’s because I wanted to see if you were willing to compromise.”

  Amazing how fast a pouting witch could change into an alert Queen.

  “What compromise?” Lia asked, watching him a little too sharply.

  “Well, I thought you might like to sit on the driving seat for a while. But you have to promise not to throw your boots at me, and you have to promise to keep the blankets tucked around you so that you don’t get chilled.”

  “There’s not much difference sitting on the driving seat and sitting in here,” Lia said calmly. “So I’ll stay here.”

  Jared rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure there is. You can get some fresh air, see some of the countryside . . . hum to the horses.”

  Lia’s smile was far too knowing and smug for his liking. “Having trouble with Boots and Button?” she asked sweetly.

  Jared raised his eyebrows. “What kind of names are those?”

  Lia shrugged. “They answer to them.”

  “What did you name the saddle horses?”

  “Flirt and Handsome. If the bay h
ad been a stallion, I would have named him Stubborn, after you.”

  Jared smiled wickedly. “That’s not the only thing a stallion and I have in common.”

  Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

  He liked the way she blushed, the way she suddenly turned shy.

  “So do you want to go out and hum to the horses or stay in here with me?” he asked.

  If he hadn’t found it so amusing, he would have been insulted by the speedy way she burst out of the nest of blankets.

  He carried her outside, ignoring her mutters about walking, and presented her to the horses—and tried not to resent the cooing and petting they received. Then he settled his bundle of witch on the driving seat, tucking the blankets around her to his satisfaction.

  “Well, that was simple enough,” Blaed said as he and Jared watched the happy horses and Thayne set off at a brisk walk.

  “Simple as could be,” Jared replied, dropping a hand on Blaed’s shoulder. “Especially since you’re going to keep her company.”

  “But—” Blaed looked wistfully up the road.

  Jared followed the direction of Blaed’s attention. “It was your idea to have Lady Lia sit out here, Blaed. Not that I told her that. So there’s no reason for her to feel annoyed with you.” He gave Blaed a friendly punch in the arm and smiled too innocently. “Tell you what. You look after my Lady, and I’ll look after yours.”

  Knowing there was nothing Blaed could say to that, Jared jogged up the road to join Thera, leaving Blaed to entertain Lia.

  Frustration felt so much better when shared.

  * * *

  “Want some company?” Jared asked when he caught up to Thera.

  “No.”

  “Too bad.” Knowing Blaed was watching, Jared threw one arm around Thera’s shoulders.

  Thera turned her head and stared at the hand so close to her teeth.

  Resisting the instinct to jerk his hand away, Jared hoped she’d let him keep all of his fingers.

  “I have an idea,” Jared said cheerfully. “Why don’t you just think of me as another older brother?”

  “I don’t have a brother, older or otherwise.”

  “I don’t have a sister. Let’s pretend.”

  Her huff turned into laughter.

  It jabbed his heart.

  He’d thought she was in her late twenties, about his own age. Now, with her face softened by humor, he wondered if she was even close.

  “Where are you from, Thera?” Jared asked, curious about her.

  The laughter died. The softness disappeared from her face, making it look older again.

  “Nowhere,” she said tightly.

  He heard the pain in her voice and wanted to ease it without betraying Lia’s confidence about their being set free. “Perhaps, when we reach Dena Nehele, you can persuade the Gray Lady to let you return to your family.”

  Because he was touching her, he felt the fierce grief that flashed through her before she was able to lock it away again.

  “I have no family,” Thera said coldly.

  Sorry for having brushed against a heart-wound, Jared tried to find something else to talk about. “Blaed likes you.”

  “Blaed’s a fool,” she snapped.

  Thinking of how Blaed looked at her, with too much of his heart in his eyes, Jared’s sympathy for Thera rapidly faded.

  “Tell me,” he said politely, “does being a bitch come naturally to you, or do you have to work at it?”

  He’d expected her to lash out at him. It unnerved him to see tears fill her eyes and spill over.

  “Thera,” he said softly, trying to hold her close to comfort her while she struggled to break away from him.

  She stopped fighting and rested her head against his chest. “It’s safer to be a bitch. Can you understand that?”

  “Yes, I can understand that,” Jared said, gently wiping the tears away with his hand.

  “It’s hard to let go of a useful weapon. Hard to trust.”

  “I know.” He hugged her once, then eased back, pleased when she didn’t shake off the arm draped companionably around her shoulders.

  After they’d been walking for several minutes, he broached the question that had nagged at him for the past few days. “What were you doing at Raej, Thera? Why was a Green-Jeweled, unbroken Black Widow submitting to the humiliation of the auction block?”

  “To escape. Why else?”

  Dry, sharp amusement lit her green eyes for a moment. When it faded, Jared looked into a spiritual desert.

  Thera took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “My mother wasn’t very bright.” Her laugh was tinged with bitterness. “The landens always think being Blood and using Craft has to mean we’re all very powerful, very wealthy, very intelligent. It doesn’t necessarily mean we’re any of those things. We’re just Blood.

  “She was pretty and gentle and had an innate sweetness that made her shine. Or it would have if she’d stayed in her home village living a life that suited her. But one day, a Warlord from the Province Queen’s court rode through the village and saw her. Courteous and admiring, he spent the afternoon with her, carrying her market basket and acting as if he’d never seen anyone quite so wonderful. Then he rode back to the court, and she was pleased to have been admired.

  “A few weeks later, the Province Queen summoned her to the court and offered her a place in the Fifth Circle. She was awed, flattered, and overwhelmed by the way the aristo members of the court acted.

  “He was there, a favored Second Circle male. He gallantly offered to escort my mother through the intricacies of court life. Since he was the only person she knew there, she accepted his company with open arms. He couldn’t bear to be away from her. He begged her to marry him. And he begged to see her through her Virgin Night.

  “He broke her. An accident, they said. It happens sometimes. Even with all the care that’s taken, it happens sometimes. So sorry.

  “Of course, he couldn’t marry her after that. Neither his family nor his Queen would grant permission for an Opal-Jeweled Warlord to marry a broken witch who wasn’t aristo. But she could be his lover, and in his heart she would always be his wife. It didn’t take her long to discover there wasn’t much difference between being a lover and a slave. At least, not in a court that had spread its legs for Hayll.

  “He liked to hit. He enjoyed hurting anything or anyone who was weaker. He used to slap her to excite himself before he mounted her.”

  “Why didn’t she leave him?” Jared asked.

  “She had signed a contract to serve in the court. The Queen wouldn’t release her. Staying with him protected her from the other males.” Something fierce began to glow at the back of Thera’s eyes. “He didn’t think she’d challenge him about anything. But when I had the Birthright Ceremony and it was time for her to formally grant him paternal rights, to give him a claim to me, she denied paternity. Said it wasn’t his bloodline that ran in me. What could he do? Granting paternity is a public ceremony, and there are no second chances, no retractions.

  “She sent me to her sister. My aunt had left the home village a few years before—I never found out why.” Thera paused for a moment. “Auntie had a lover, a Purple Dusk Warlord. They’d never formalized their union in any way. There were no records to link one to the other. He was a good man, solid and strong, easy-tempered. He worked hard for the first hug I freely gave him.”

  Jared smiled sadly. He could imagine the pleasure and relief the man had felt when he finally overcame her sire’s viciousness. “What was his name?”

  Thera shook her head. “He had a sister, a Sapphire-Jeweled Black Widow who lived in another village. She was a force to be reckoned with, and males who tried to force themselves on women, Blood or landen, usually found themselves impotent for weeks afterward. She spent a few days each month with her brother and Auntie. She had friends in her own village; she also had enemies. So she spent those first days of her moontime where she had the protection of the one male she could trust.<
br />
  “She was born to the Hourglass, like me. Like calls to like. I’d barely settled in with Auntie when I met her. The next day, she began my training.”

  “You were very young to begin training in the Hourglass’s ways,” Jared murmured.

  Thera nodded. “Yes. Because of that, there was a lot she couldn’t teach me. I wasn’t mature enough mentally or emotionally to endure it. It wasn’t formal training. More like I’d show her how much I could do of what she’d shown me the last time. Sometimes we took the next step in that lesson; sometimes she began something new.

  “She never actually said anything, but we all understood that her training me had to be a secret, that my being a Black Widow had to be a secret. By the time I reached puberty and would have been recognized for a child of the Hourglass, I’d learned how to mask my psychic scent well enough to fool even a darker Jewel.

  “The ugliness had started by then—Queens and darker-Jeweled males muttering about Black Widows being dangerous, how they were emotionally unstable because of their journeys into the Twisted Kingdom, how only Hayllian witches had the lifespan and the maturity needed to handle the Black Widows’ Craft. The males began to break young Black Widows—for their own good, of course.”

  “Bastards,” Jared snarled softly.

  “The month before I turned eighteen, the Black Widow showed up unexpectedly. She said she’d been thinking about me while she was weaving a tangled web of dreams and visions. She said if I didn’t make the Offering to the Darkness before the next moon, I never would. And if I didn’t have my Virgin Night before the Offering, I would never reach my nineteenth year.”

  Thera leaned against Jared. Surprised by her sudden weariness, he slipped his arm from her shoulder to her waist to support her.

  “Auntie’s lover saw me through my Virgin Night,” Thera said quietly. “He wasn’t happy about it, but there was no one else we could trust, so he accepted his duty. He was generous and kind. When it was over and we were sure my inner web was intact and I still had my Jewels and my Craft . . . I think he was more relieved than I.

  “A week later, we went to a Sanctuary a couple of days’ ride from Auntie’s village. The Priestess there and the Black Widow were friends. I made the Offering and came away with the Green Jewels.