“It’s a shame Callers cannot Criton-bond.”
“I guess a Caller’s burden is to only see the tether between rider and Criton.”
Although she didn’t totally understand the complexity of Criton-bonding, the enormity of the joining still awed her. A hollow ache filled her chest as she stared at the pasture. “I know. But it’s kind of sad, don’t you think? To have the ability to see the connection between two separated souls and bring them together for the bonding, yet never able to experience it?”
Marek’s lips twitched into a soft smile. “I suppose never joining in the communion could be disappointing. Powerful Callers can bond with a lifemate,” he added in an encouraging tone.
They slipped into a comfortable silence as a black Criton named Midnight dove from a ledge and grabbed an unsuspecting ovine in his mouth before the herd could scatter. Carina watched the Criton carry the bleating animal back to his den. The ovine kicked and thrashed until Midnight’s jaws closed and the animal stilled.
Although ovine served as food, Carina hated to see an animal die and offered a silent prayer to the Gods. When she turned her attention back to Marek, he was staring at her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. “What?”
He shrugged and continued to eye her. “Most women are too squeamish to observe Critons feeding.”
Exactly what did he mean? That something was wrong with her because she didn’t swoon at the sight? “Well, how else are they to live?” she snapped with a defiant tilt of her chin. “And I prayed for the ovine, asking that it receive eternal blessings. Did you bestow such a request?”
She jerked her hand off his arm and stood glaring at him through narrowed eyes.
Marek threw his head back and roared with laughter. “I’m humbled by your kindness for the poor animal. Please, forgive my insult for that wasn’t my intent.”
The warmth in his voice radiated over her, while his smile crinkled the tiny lines around his eyes. Her heart fluttered. A blush heated her cheeks. “And I’m sorry for my outburst.” She glanced away to hide her embarrassment.
In an unexpected movement, he cupped her chin with his hand and forced her to look into his intense eyes. “Never apologize for speaking your mind, Lady Carina.”
She stopped breathing. Her body blazed as if she’d been seared by the white-hot fire of Criton flame. He smelled like an evergreen forest, sunlight on a spring day, the anticipation before the rain—like freedom. She could drown in those eyes with the interesting grey specks that revealed an undeniable passion, a true pathway to what lay hidden within his soul.
He smiled, breaking the moment, and placed her hand back on his arm.
As they wandered toward the medical barn, she grumbled, “Well, maybe I’d get into less trouble if I didn’t speak out so much.”
Marek’s laugh filled her with unexpected pleasure and she laughed with him.
They had almost reached the barn when her thoughts returned to the Caller. “They say she went searching for her lifemate and looks for him still.”
Marek’s brows furrowed. “My lady?”
“The Caller. They say her love for all eternity was lost in battle and she went looking for him and won’t stop searching in this life or the next until she finds him and their hearts are reunited.”
They paused at the double doors as danaines fluttered around them, flitting from flower to flower. The sweet smell of hay drifted on the breeze blowing in off the Arrakan Mountains and rustled the leaves in nearby trees. Even the tanagers were enjoying the day as they jumped from branch to branch, chirping to each other.
“Well,
they
also speak of Critons twice as large as ours, and little blue sprites that once lived in the forests, and that the Caller fell under the spell of the Naiads and jumped into the Locksneed River.” Marek shook his head. “No, I think what you speak of is just folklore, an invented tale to explain the unexplainable.”
“Even so, I hope she found him and they’re together again,” Carina mumbled, uncomfortable for revealing a childhood dream.
“Aye, looking for love is by far the best reason to leave the kings of this land struggling to defend their borders.”
She stole a quick glance at Marek. His hooded eyes seemed lost in thought. Was he a casualty of lost love? She’d never be such a victim since she’d never marry. She tried to ignore the self-pity that settled in her stomach. At least she had Mira and the other Critons to comfort her.
“We bring our sick or hurt Critons here,” she informed him as they entered the airy building. As if on cue, a young Criton stood in a stanchion. Carina’s heart constricted. The healer was monitoring her beloved Mira. She released Marek’s arm and rushed over to the animal. Mira lowered her head and Carina dutifully scratched behind an ear.
“What’s wrong?” Carina asked.
Abbey, King McKay’s best healer, finished running her hands along Mira’s flank. Abbey spoke in a soothing voice. “Mira grows into her junior years and will transition into adulthood soon. I need to determine when we should place a watch on her.”
The healer’s long robes tumbled forward as she pulled her brown, velvet-trimmed hood over her head. She placed a gnarled hand on Carina’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, your Criton is still a few weeks away from transition.”
Abbey turned to Marek and bobbed her head in greeting before leaving.
Marek rubbed Mira’s nose. “You seem very fond of this Criton.”
“Oh yes.” Carina grinned. “Father and some of his men found her orphaned when she was young. Father wanted to leave her, but I convinced him to let me keep her.”
“Well, you’ve done an excellent job raising her.” With a final pat, he turned toward the doorway and extended his arm.
She planted a quick kiss on Mira’s nose before curling her hand around Marek’s bicep. The little Criton snorted in agitation as they walked away, and Carina rolled her eyes. “Mira doesn’t like being inside,” she muttered, justifying her friend’s behavior.
She looked at Marek. He was staring at her again with those piercing eyes, as if trying to penetrate her defenses and spy upon her innermost secrets. Self-conscious, she peered at the ground. She never should have kissed Mira farewell. What an unladylike thing to do.
“Did you know that we spotted a Criton rider at your border when my men and I entered King McKay’s territory?”
Her heart hiccupped. She’d get into trouble if Father discovered she’d defied his no Criton riding mandate. She continued to survey her feet, but could sense him probing her. In a weak attempt at deflection, she guided the conversation away from its current direction. “You said
your
men.” She glanced up to focus on the waiting eyes of the man accompanying her. “Does that mean you’re Captain of the Guard?”
He smiled and his expression softened. “Aye, I guess you could say that.”
“Oh my,” she whispered and then wanted to kick herself for sounding so childish.
“Now, as for that rider,” he continued. “We gave chase, but she eluded us.”
She tried not to smile at the frustration coloring his words. She was very proud of escaping King Duncan’s men.
“The rider had long, brown hair…much like yours. And the little Criton she rode looks a lot like the one we just left in the barn. Do you know anything about that?”
Her heart thumped in an erratic rhythm as they wandered toward the main house. She inhaled the cool, harvest day air deep into her lungs, struggling to think of an answer that wouldn’t incriminate her. Deciding avoidance was her best option, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind an ear and ignored his question altogether. “Mira does fly fast.”
Marek stopped and stood in front her. His lively eyes hardened into green ice, the grey flecks like little pokers boring into her. “It’s not safe for you to ride alone so close to your father’s border. You should never leave without an escort.”
She stared into his determined face and her resolve crumbled on a defeated sigh. “But Father doesn’t let me ride. He says riding confuses the Critons, so they might not rider-bond.” Once she started, the words spilled out. She couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t fly. I only ride Mira since she’s small and no one wants her, I swear.”
Her other hand reached out to clutch his arm. “Father says Mira won’t amount to anything, and I don’t mean any harm by it.” Her grip tightened, as if by squeezing harder she could convince him that for a few hours a day riding freed her from a life filled with loneliness and boredom.
“Flying means that much to you?” His voice lowered and his lips pressed together in a firm line. “To cause you to disobey your father and place your life at risk?”
She blinked back tears as her heart tumbled into her stomach, and glanced toward the hunting pastures stretched out in the lower fields. She had displeased this man, and for some unknown reason felt horrible about it. Except for flying, she always obeyed her father. She went out of her way to vie for his attention and gain his acceptance, but nothing she did earned his favor. And now, she’d disappointed the only man who had ever shown her any measure of respect. She chastised herself for even considering a Captain of the Guard would be interested in her anyway.
When he spoke her name, his voice rippled through her like a soothing caress, commanding her with a quiet calmness. “Answer me.”
But what could she tell him without sounding like a whining, spoiled noble…or rather, mixed noble? Fortunately, she didn’t have to answer as her half sister’s high-pitched voice permeated the air. Carina stepped away, waiting for Marissa to take center stage.
“Father, he’s over here.” Marissa giggled as she sidled up to Marek.
King Regin McKay appeared from behind the barn and strode toward them as fast as his stubby legs could carry him, and with all the spectacle only her father could display. His squinty eyes sliced into her before dismissing her altogether. With a slight incline of his head that served as a bow between royals, Regin’s throaty voice rumbled. “King Duncan, I trust your journey was uneventful.”
Marek gave a similar nod of respect. “Aye, we had no trouble, even when we traveled through the Bridal Lands.”
Carina’s mind raced.
But Marek was Captain of the Guard, not King Duncan.
Carina’s eyes widened when Marissa gathered her flowing, blue satin skirts and performed a deep curtsy.
Marissa’s blond curls fell forward to frame her flawlessly powdered face as she dipped her head. “Welcome, Your Majesty. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. May I call you King Marek?” she asked, holding out her gloved hand.
Carina broke into a cold sweat. Her chest seized, squeezing the air from her lungs. King Duncan’s first name was
Marek?
Marek Duncan?
King Marek Duncan!
She’d been walking with King Duncan the entire time, acting like a nitwit. She looked at her scuffed boots and dirt-smudged clothes and cringed. She was filthy and needed a bath. Just the thought of what her hair must look like made her wish for a rock big enough to crawl under so she could slam it on top of her rattlebrained head.
Marek reached for Marissa’s hand—a hand covered by a pristine, white glove. She balled her own hands into fists and tucked them behind her back.
“Lady Marissa, I would be honored if you call me King Marek.”
A spark of jealousy smoldered in her belly as Marissa’s dainty hand settled on Marek’s arm…the
exact
spot where hers had been moments ago. She fought the urge to push Marissa out of the way and retake her place at his side, but her grubby appearance kept her feet rooted to the ground. How ridiculous she must have appeared, walking arm-in-arm with a king. Unlike her, Marissa looked as though she’d been born to stand at the side of someone as handsome as King Duncan. The jealous ember inside her turned to ash.
Marek reached for Regin’s forearm and they shook hands.
Regin’s lips curved downward. “I’m sorry no one was here to formally greet you, but we didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
“I wanted to stay ahead of a storm rolling over the Arrakans, so we left a day early. And Lady Carina did offer a proper welcome.”
Carina bowed her head when Marek’s quick look in her direction drew her father’s gaze. Again, she wished for that rock, knowing Father noticed every detail of her less than proper appearance. Heat flooded her cheeks. Why couldn’t she ever do anything right to please him?
“You have many more Critons nesting here than I thought,” Marek said.
“We take very good care of our Critons. And since Marissa is of age, the fact we have so many is a good sign she’s our next Caller.”
“Oh, Father, please,” Marissa gushed.
Regin’s voice boomed with authority. “Come, Marek, let us have the honor of presenting our home and surrounding grounds to you before we serve dinner.”
“Lady Carina already has done an excellent job of showing me—”
“Carina is a bit unruly. I’ve tried to teach her to behave like a lady of the court, but she’s a mixed blood after all.” Regin gave a
‘what is a king to do’
shrug that made Carina wish she was anywhere but where she stood. “Carina, bid King Duncan farewell so you can finish your chores.”
“Yes, Father.” She stepped in front of Marek and dropped into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty, it was a pleasure to meet you.”