Bloodline of a Tempest

Chapter 3

The horses liked Nema.

She liked them too, but she couldn't say she was a great fan of this route. Instead of taking the road around the mountain range, merchants and travelers used, they cut straight through until they reached a narrow defile in the Errasten mountain. Nema said nothing. This defile was a sort of a chokepoint because it was too narrow for two people to pass.

People of Atria used it to hide during the last war. So it appeared the stranger wasn't that much of a stranger after all. Nema was skilled enough in a saddle, but holding Nox and making sure the potion bottles in her bag didn't shake so much made this ride quite unpleasant, kidnapping aside.

The dawn was breaking but the sunlight wouldn't reach the mountain for the next few hours and when she saw they were heading straight into the darkness of a defile Nema wasn't sure her kidnapper knew what he was doing.

'What is it?' She heard his voice somewhere near her nape. He sounded a bit irritated even she didn't breathe out a word since the moment they left. Old Man was angry only when she talked.

Turning around wasn't an option since she felt awkward, but the possibility that all four of them – Nox and the horse included – could break their neck pretty soon made her voice her doubts.

'Are you sure that taking this road is the best idea?' She asked, trying not to sound intimidated. She was the one who accepted this entire abduction thing, so there was no way she'll start playing the terrified maiden now.

'I'm sure,' he said curtly.

Surrounded by darkness, only the sound of hooves echoed around them. The horse seemed trained for the more dangerous terrains but Nema didn't feel safe, especially since the stranger held the reins only with his right hand. He held his other arm casually hanging beside his body in some knight-like gallant fashion.

'What is it?' He asked again.

'Um, are you sure you shouldn't hold the reins with both hands?'

Nema heard a little grunt.

'Are you sure you shouldn't be  minding your own business,' was all the response she got.

Once they emerged from the defile and reached the shore Nema saw the boat waiting for them.
There were four men, all dressed in black with grim faces and even grimmer looks. They were all very much armed and not so happy to see Nema. At least they directed their black stares at her kidnapper.

'What is this, Demian?' One of them growled. 'We risked our neck to come here and you brought this...kid.'

It wasn't an offensive word but coming from his mouth it didn't sound like a compliment either.

'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all,' Nema thought.

Demian straightened to his full height, his legs braced apart and just now, on the daylight, Nema realized how scary he really looked. He pulled down the mask, staring at the man who still looked daggers at Nema. 'We sail,' he instructed.

A heartbeat later the boat was heading towards the open sea.

Nema never sailed on a ship and it wasn't nearly as romantic as she believed it would be. Once the waves started raging around them she felt sick. One of the men nudged her towards the stairs that led under the deck. 'Move, you're in the way,' he warned. 

He didn't have to tell her twice. The lower deck was a dark and smelly place but she found some ropes where she could sit and press her back against a firm surface. 'I'm sorry, Nox,' she whispered. She had no idea how she'll get used to it one day when she owns her own ship. 'Please don't die,' she whispered in his grey fur, staring at the darkness around her.

After a while when the boat stopped tossing around so violently she heard heavy steps coming down the wooden stairs. Nema held her breath. In the next moment there was a flash of warm yellow light and she saw Demian looking at her.

'Are you hungry?' He asked.

He still sounded angry so she shook her head as firmly as she could, hoping he'd leave. Only when he was close to the stairs she found her voice again. 'Could I have a bit of warm milk, please?' She asked.

Demian stopped for a moment, cocking his head. The light suddenly disappeared and she heard the sound of his steps climbing back to the deck. After a few moments he came back with a steaming bowl of milk he left on a closed chest in front of Nema.

'Could you,' she said, trying not to stare at him, 'leave the lamp, please?'

'The lamp?' Demian frowned.

It was really hard not to stare at him. With that tired voice and his long black hair tied back and that right hand he held behind his back Demian looked like some depressed dark prince.

Only when he took a step closer and showed her his open palm Nema realized there was a fiery sphere the size of a fist hovering half of an inch above his skin.

Her heart skipped a beat.

For the longest time Nema couldn't force her lungs to take the air in.

'Are you afraid?' Demian asked. It sounded like a dare.

'No,' Nema lied. If she had learned something in life it was that people could sense fear like the predators could sense blood.

Demian nodded and closed his fist. The light was gone and the darkness around them suddenly felt sinister. Her eyes, blinded by the light that was burning too close only moments ago, now couldn't distinguish between the shadows around her.

'Are you afraid now?' She heard his voice, much, much closer than she liked.

'I'm not afraid of you!' She hissed, reaching for her boot. The light flashed again and Demian was in front of her.

'Give me the dagger!' He ordered. Nema was looking at his sharp features twisted in a frown. 'Now!' He said.

Nema pulled out her only weapon and handed it out. 

'Is that all?' He asked, examining the sharpened glass. Nema nodded.

It was too late when she realized her mistake.

Every healer had a weapon of choice designed especially for them with a thread that represented his life journey and an expensive handle.

'I've left my sword...there,' she explained. Even now when she was far away Nema couldn't force herself to call that place home.

His dark gaze rested on her, cold and unblinking, and she felt as if he could see  every single lie she ever told in her life. Nema wondered how people like him punished those who wasted their time.

'So,' he drawled, resting against a wooden column, 'you are telling me you're not afraid you're alone in the middle of nowhere with four fire-feeders.'

It's been ages since she heard that word. The Fire-feeders - the most infamous lot in all seven worlds.

Nema weathered his stare. 'They say you are all captured and banished,' she said.

Demian smiled darkly. 'They're wrong.'