The Skeleton King (The Silk & Steel Saga) by Karen Azinger Read Free Book Online Page B

down with
handfuls of grass. While the others settled their horses, she slipped
downstream seeking privacy behind a bush. She longed for a proper bath, but a
quick wash would have to do. Crouching by the stream, she pulled off her shirt,
shivering against the biting-cold water. A small lump of amole root served as
soap. Leaning forward, she peered into the water, trying to catch her
reflection, but the rushing stream held too many ripples. Her boots slipped and
she nearly took the plunge. Regaining her balance, she laughed at herself. If
she’d stayed in Castlegard her wedding night would have been so different.
Scented baths, silken finery, and a sumptuous feast in the great hall…but the
man waiting at the altar would never be of her choosing. Far better to wash by
a stream and marry Duncan
beneath the trees. Eager for the night, she finished and returned to the
others.
    A crackling fire drew her back to the
glade. Six fire-rings of blackened stones proved the glade was an old
campground, a staging area for the knights before they sallied into the north.
Kath found her companions gathered around the ring closest to the stream,
bedrolls spread in a circle around the fire pit. Duncan had set his bedroll next to hers, the
same discrete distance as always, but Kath blushed to see it. She ducked her
head, hoping the others would not notice.
    Busying herself with work, she went
to gather kindling, but pinpricks kept dancing down her spine. She whirled to
find Duncan
staring. The man was driving her to distraction, but she could not repress an
answering grin.  
    Returning with an armful of
kindling, she found Zith had assumed the role of cook, taking over from Sir Tyrone.
Rabbits spitted on sticks sizzled above the flames. The smell made Kath’s mouth
water, sparking a sudden hunger.
    They shared the rabbits, licking
grease from their fingers. Bryx chuffed, gnawing on the bones. Sitting circled
around the fire, they leaned on bedrolls, sipping mugs of tea, the warmth
chasing away the evening chill. Kath smothered her impatience, wishing the
others would sleep, but Blaine
nattered on about the forest of shields and the heroes of old. Kath had never
seen him so talkative. She studied the blond-haired knight and the wolf-girl,
wondering if the attraction was mutual. Blaine
was clearly smitten, showering the girl with attention, but Danya seemed
distracted. Huddled beneath a cloak of brown wool, her hair bound in a long
braid, she sat cross-legged, staring at something in her hand, a dreamy look on
her face.
    Magic spiked through Kath, creating
an irresistible pull. Kath gasped, feeling a magic she’d thought long lost. She
gripped her gargoyle, but it was not the source. A strange certainty ran
through her. Sitting up, she stared at Danya, her voice hard with mistrust.
“What’s in your hand?”
    The conversation stilled.
    The wolf growled a low warning.
    Danya blinked like an owl woken
from sleep. “My hand?”
    Kath stifled the urge to leap
across the fire and take what was hers. “What are you holding?”
    Understanding seemed to break
across the wolf-girl’s face. “Is it yours?” She opened her hand and held it
out. A small amber pyramid nestled on her open palm.
    Kath gasped, fighting the urge to
rip the focus from the girl’s hand. “Where did you get that?”
    Danya extended her hand. “If it is
yours, then take it.” Her voice fell to a hush. “I don’t think I need it any
more.”
    Kath circled the fire, her gaze
locked on the amber pyramid. Her right hand gripped her sword hilt, unable to
believe that Danya would give up the focus without a fight, but the
brown-haired girl did not waiver, the amber pyramid offered on her open palm.
    Kath snatched the focus from her
hand…and staggered backwards, as if released from a spell.
    Duncan leaped to catch her, concern in his
voice. “Are you well?”
    Kath shuddered, released from the
compulsion. Sinking onto her bedroll, she stared at the amber pyramid and