On The Edge Page 7
“Are you as concerned about me as you are about Daniel?”
She turned at the sound of Griffin’s voice. “I am. You know that.”
He stood beside her, shoulders back, head held high. The urge to throw her arms around him was almost overwhelming, but the look on his face made her hesitate. Instead she reached out, touching his arm. He looked down at her, his expression troubled. Then he pulled her toward their hut.
“You and Daphne stay here, with Grace. The priest and Joseph will stay with her, and I will leave a guard with you. Do not leave the hut, no matter what. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “I do. Leave me a weapon.”
He snorted. “I’m leaving you a guard.”
“And I appreciate it. But I want a knife.” She set her hands on her hips. “Knife, please?”
He sighed, exasperation clear on his face. “You are almost intolerably stubborn sometimes. Do you know that?”
“I do. And you are equally stubborn. Do you know that?”
His sudden smile made her laugh. “I do. There is a knife beneath the pallet. It was my father’s; don’t lose it. I found it in my ruined hut. It’s blackened, but still sharp.”
“You mean I’ve been sleeping on a knife all this time?”
“You have.” He pulled her into a fierce hug. “I need to go. I can’t let Daniel think he’s the new leader.”
He kissed her quickly, then turned away, waving at one of his guards. The man nodded, walking quickly toward Addison. She knew the drill and ducked quickly into her hut, lifting the pelts and searching beneath the pallet, fingers touching cold iron. She pulled out a massive knife, dark with the effects of the fire. But the edge was still sharp, and she hefted it. It weighed more than she anticipated and she wondered if she could actually wield it. Hopefully she wouldn’t need to.
Daphne was already inside the hut, arranging another pallet on the floor. There was a pile of pelts nearby. Grace stood, swaying slightly, a pelt in her hand. She was still painfully thin, but her color was better. She was still very weak, but shouldn’t be, and Addison propped the knife in the corner, taking the pelt away from Grace.
“Let me help.” Addison helped Daphne spread the pelts over the pallet.
“I can do it, Addison.” She reached for another pelt.
“You can help by getting back into bed.”
“Grace!” Addison straightened, turning to Grace. “We’re not kids. Stop arguing with everything I say. This isn’t home, and we’re not arguing over bedtime on the weekend.”
“Fine.” She sat down on her bed with something like relief. “I’m in bed. I don’t need to lie down.”
Grace glared up at Addison. She’d like to strangle the girl, but the feisty outburst meant that she was feeling better, and she turned back to shaking out pelts, struggling to suppress a smile. Daphne looked up, grinning, and winked at Addison.
“Okay. So we’re alone here tonight with a guard outside.” She glanced around the hut. “The priest and Joseph…someone should be bringing them.” She poked her head through the doorway, just as a guard deposited the priest and an apprehensive-looking Joseph at the hut. Addison held the pelt, catching the priest’s eye as he passed. His look was clear; do not touch, and do not speak. Whatever had passed between them was to remain private. She nodded slightly and he moved deeper into the tent. Joseph entered, carrying a pile of blankets.
“Where on earth did you find blankets?”
Joseph struggled through the door. “They were brought from the village. Long ago.”
Daphne looked over Addison’s shoulder. “One of the raiding runs, most likely. Some village wife is missing her best woolen blanket.”
Joseph arranged the blankets in the furthest corner, pulling out one thin blanket for himself. Addison watched as the priest seated himself, setting out a small bundle of dried plants. To her surprise they smoldered, a thin smoke rising.
“He’s not going to drug us again, is he?” She shot a look at Joseph. “I got tricked the last time with his herbal medicine.”
Joseph straightened, sweating lightly. The hut had grown warm and Addison hoped with the coming night, it would cool off. “It’s a protection bundle. The smoke makes us invisible to evil.”
The priest began chanting, his voice rising and falling, waving the bundle in circles. The smoke was pungent, but not unpleasant. Addison sat beside Daphne, listening as the priest continued his ritual.
There was fruit and she made Grace eat. After she’d tossed the rinds and pits out into the jungle, it had grown dark. The priest had put away his herbs, and curled into a compact ball in his blankets. Joseph lay nearby, wrapped in his blanket.
Grace had fallen asleep almost as soon as the sun set. Only Daphne was awake, sitting with her back against Grace’s bed. Addison sat beside her, reaching over, taking her hand.
“You think this idea of Daniel’s will work?” Daphne squeezed her hand.
Addison shrugged. “It might. I just worry…you know, back home I’d worry if someone was late for a date, if they’d had trouble getting a cab, or if they’d worked late. Or, if they’d decided not to show up. Here, I worry if Griffin—and now Daniel—are going to come back at all.”
“I know. When you were gone, and they burned the village, it was surreal, like some movie set. I expected someone to come out and yell ‘cut’ and all the extras would drop their play swords and we’d have tea.” She sniffled, wiping her hand across her face. “This is real, Addison. It’s real life, so close to death. I hope Daniel’s idea works, if it helps keep this life safe.”
They sat in the dark, the rest sleeping around them. Daphne squeezed her hand.
“Would you go home, if you had the chance?”
“I thought about it, when I was in Cusco. The only thing I wanted was a bath, a very hot bath.”
Daphne laughed, a soft sound in the dark.
“The bubbles smelled horrible, and the water felt harsh, not like rainwater. It was lovely, for a little while, but I ended up sleeping on the floor.” She nodded toward the priest. “I made a nest, just like him, on the floor. The bed felt all wrong.”
She sighed. “Long story for a short answer. No. I don’t want to go…back. I was going to say home, but this is home. This is where my heart is.”
“Mine, too.”
Daphne lay down, and Addison joined her, pulling a pelt over her shoulder. The night air seeped through the hut, cooling the overheated space. Addison listened to the soft breaths of each person, picking out Grace’s breathing. It was even and deep, no more rasping cough.
Grace was better. She said a little prayer of thanks, and one for the men, waiting in the ruins. And then she tried to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Dawn could not come soon enough. Griffin’s clan sat in the ruins, waiting. They’d slept in shifts, someone always awake, some trying to sleep in the stone structure, not many of them succeeding. Ramos had stayed with his clan, and Griffin wondered if he’d fight, or if they’d take the opportunity to bolt. He couldn’t imagine Ramos deserting the clans, but he’d never thought Ramos would challenge him so boldly either. Nothing was as it should be, and a nagging sense of confusion haunted him.
Daniel made his way through the narrow passage, sitting down beside Griffin. “I want to position myself in the room with the bones, wait there for whoever shows up, and take them hostage. There’s a passage I can use, and I’ll be out of sight. I’ll need someone with me, to watch my back. I’ll grab the first man who comes down, take him out, and then you can attack.”
Griffin studied Daniel. The man looked, and acted, as if he’d been doing this all his life. He’d given up wearing much of his Western clothing, and Griffin wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d shown up in a loincloth. He was proud and strong, and except for the color of his skin, he could easily be mistaken as a member of any clan. He’d misjudged Daniel, viewed him as a threat. Now he was an ally, and a good one.
“I’ll send a man with you, someone to�
�how do you say? Watch your back?”
Daniel nodded. “Exactly.”
They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the awakening jungle. A wave of tension ran through the men, electric, almost visible in the gray light that began to filter through the openings above.
“Do not do anything heroic. Addison will blame me, if something happens to you.”
“I have no intention of getting killed, if that’s what you mean. I can take care of myself.”
“I have no doubt. Still, do as I say. I am your leader, Daniel. Do not forget that.”
There was a snort from the man. “I’m not part of your clan, Griffin. I’m an outsider, remember?
He set his hand on Daniel’s arm. They were surrounded by the smell of dust, ancient incense, and history. His history. But the future lay ahead of him, and it was changing, right in front of him.
“Daniel, you brought back to me my mate, the woman I love. That woman carries my child, and the future of our clans. Whether you want to be or not, you are part of that future. You are part of my clan.”
Daniel’s expression was solemn. He nodded, holding out his hand. “Then so be it.”
Griffin clasped the extended hand, and quickly pulled Daniel into a brief hug. He released him. “Then fight like one of us. Fight from the heart.”
Daniel nodded and turned, disappearing into the passage. Griffin watched him go, then turned to a guard sitting nearby. He spoke briefly, and the man nodded, slipping soundlessly behind Daniel. Griffin had been tempted to tell the guard his duties were to be carried out under penalty of death for failure, but he didn’t. He’d just have to trust Daniel, trust his commitment to Addison. He wasn’t sure all of Daniel’s allegiance was to the clans.
There was a subtle change in the atmosphere in the passage. Then from above, Griffin heard a thump, the sound of footsteps, men wearing boots walking overhead. There was a shout in a foreign tongue and a crash of metal against stone. The raiders had arrived.
Griffin tensed, as did the men around him, as they waited for his signal. Daniel was in place, and Griffin waited. The raiders had removed most of the boards covering the hole, and he knew they’d return to that spot.
There was another thud close by, muffled voices, and then a sharp cry of pain. Griffin strained to hear, to try to identify the cry. The sudden sharp scent of blood filled the air, and the men around him began moving restlessly.
From the far end of the passage, the guard sent with Daniel, appeared. He waved, signaling the all clear. Daniel had his hostage.
Griffin stood, giving the battle cry he’d been holding back, and the clan swarmed up out of the ruins.
The raiders stood in a loose group, some holding shovels, none holding weapons, all looking confused in the gathering dawn light. They were staring down into the space where their man had disappeared, backs to the rising shifters. A few turned, mouths gaping in surprise.
The attack was swift. A few men had shifted in the ruins, emerging as sleek jaguars, snarling, and flashing white fangs. The rest swarmed out, dressed in scarlet loincloths and nothing more, waving knives, screaming battle cries.
Griffin hesitated, just for a moment, watching his clans, seeing Ramos among them, as they attacked. They worked together, and they flowed over the ruins with a grace that amazed him. Then he raised his knife and ran, joining his clan in the attack.
It was a rout, the raiders completely overwhelmed. It took only a few minutes for the raiders to be killed.
Griffin stood over the bodies, breathing heavily, watching as the blood of his enemies seeped into the stones of the ruins. It had been like this in the ancient times, when the elders had sacrificed their enemies in rituals and ceremonies. There was no ceremony now, no time for ritual. But the result would be the same; the ruins would taste the blood and the Gods would look down on them with favor.
“Take the bodies into the jungle. Let our wild brothers feast tonight.”
The clan threw the bodies off the edge of the ruin into the jungle. In a few moments it was as if nothing had happened. The birds resumed their song, the breeze blew away the smell of blood and death, and the sun shone on his shoulders.
Daniel and the guard appeared from the room where the bones were kept. Between them they half-dragged a man, one of the raiders. He was bound and gagged, bloody and bruised, one eye almost swollen shut. Griffin glanced up at Daniel, one eyebrow raised. Daniel shrugged.
“He resisted. There was nothing else I could do. He needed to be subdued.” Daniel grinned at the guard. “Right?”
The guard returned the grin, nodding. Griffin shook his head. “At least he’s alive.”
He knelt in front of the man, lifting his chin. The man looked at him with his one good eye, a mixture of defiance and hate flashing through the blood-shot depths.
“Listen to me, and listen well. You are alone here. None of your men are alive. None of them. Do you hear me?”
The man’s eye rolled in a panicked circle as he tried to see past Griffin, looking for the other raiders. But he was surrounded by shifters, both cat and men. The defiance faded, replaced with pure terror.
“You will take a message to your people, to the raiders who come here. These places do not belong to you. If and when you or anyone returns, we will defend our land. Do you understand?”
The man nodded vigorously, grunting something Griffin assumed was agreement.
“Tell everyone you see, tell them there are more than a thousand of us, that we are giants, we rise from the jungle floor like monsters. We cannot be killed. We cannot be driven off. And when we are done, we disappear like smoke.”
As he spoke he watched as the clan members silently melted into the jungle, back into the ruins. The man was left with Griffin, Daniel and the guard.
“These men will take you to the road. You will be untied, and you will run, very fast, down the mountain. Your vehicles have been ruined, and will sit as a reminder, to anyone who sets foot on this mountain, of what happened here.”
The man nodded again, his grunts louder. Griffin glanced at the guard and Daniel, and the pulled the man to his feet. Griffin looked at him in disgust; the front of his dirty pants now had a large wet stain.
“Take him away.”
Daniel and the guard bundled the man down the stairs. Griffin listened to them crash through the jungle and decided the man’s knees were not strong enough to hold him.
He sent the rest of the clan back, keeping Ramos with him. It was time to have a private conversation.
“This went well, Griffin. Daniel may have had the right idea.”
“He might. The man seemed willing to listen.” He hesitated, unsure of how to say what needed to be said. “Ramos, we are more like brothers. I value you as a clan leader. You are strong, brave, and you are…or have been…loyal.” Ramos frowned, but remained silent.
“But if you feel the need to challenge my leadership, as I did Xavier, then do so, openly, in front of the clans. Make your intentions known.”
Ramos’s eyes widened. “I do not want to challenge you. I do not want to be leader. But…” He placed a hand on Griffin’s arm. “I believe it’s time for a change. Not only this…” He gestured around the blood-stained ruins. “But in how the clans are lead. There hasn’t been any time to talk. We’ve been under attack, our villages burned. I think there is a different way for the future. A better way.”
“I’m listening.” Knowing that Ramos wasn’t going to challenge him was a relief. But this new proposition might be worse.
“You were right about this, and listening to Daniel. And that’s what I want you to do with the rest of us…listen.”
“Listen? I do listen to you.”
“I want you to listen to all the clan leaders. Not just me. They are leaders for a reason.”
Griffin stared at Ramos. “You want me to listen to all the leaders? To have them tell me what they think, what they want? Nothing will ever get done. No one will agree. We’ve had one leader, o
ne person to make decisions. It’s been that way forever.”
“And we’ve always taken mates from our clans, from shifters.” Ramos’s voice softened. “This isn’t forever anymore, Griffin. This is now. And the world has changed.”
Griffin turned away from Ramos, walking to the edge of the ruins. He looked out over the jungle, his jungle. Things had changed. He’d taken an outsider as a mate. They had attacked raiders, not waited to be attacked. Or run away. He’d accepted Daniel as one of his own. Exhaling sharply, he turned.
“I will think about what you’ve said. You are right, the world is changing. Maybe we do need to change as well.”
A look of relief passed across Ramos’s face. “For now, that is enough.”
Behind them Daniel and the guard mounted the steps, Daniel grinning from ear to ear.
“Did you send him down the mountain?” Griffin and Ramos walked to the edge of the ruin.
“We did. He more or less fell down the mountain. He was so scared he could barely walk. But at the rate he was going, I’d say he is halfway to Cusco by now.”
For the first time that day, Griffin felt a genuine smile lift his lips. “Then let’s go home.”
He stepped onto the first step. Daniel threw an arm around Griffin’s shoulders. He tensed, unused to such a familiar gesture. But Daniel’s high spirits were contagious and he patted him on the back. Daniel moved down the stairs, following the guard. From behind, Griffin heard a snort of laughter. He turned to find Ramos grinning down at him.
“Yes. I’d say the world is changing.”
* * *
The clans were gathered in the clearing where the mating ritual had been held. Addison stood with Griffin, his arm around her waist. He’d offered to bring something for her to sit on, but she’d insisted she wasn’t disabled, just very pregnant.
Daphne stood a short distance away, resting against Ramos. She caught Addison’s eye and smiled. She was just as large as Addison, and Ramos doted on her, just as Griffin did.
The priest began chanting and all eyes turned to the platform. Daniel and Grace stood silently as the priest walked in a circle around them. Joseph stood to the side, holding the wooden box with the antique crystals. As with Addison’s and Daphne’s ritual, he dipped a feather into the oils in the vials, touching Grace and Daniel, anointing them, joining them as mates.