Her hand on my forearm squeezed and then dropped away. “Lysi.”
“That is only for females? What do you call a male who is an acquaintance?”
I wondered if I could give the demon king yet another name, since he refused to give me his own. At the very least, I could address my guard, who stood a short distance away, among the onlookers.
“Kairill,” she said slowly.
Ky-reel,I whispered the word in my mind, committing it to memory.
I heard a strange ringing sound echo throughout the camp, beginning suddenly and without warning.
Frowning, I looked around trying to identify it. “What is that?”
The Dakkari female said patiently, “Training begins. It sounds as if theVorakkaris among them.” My confusion must have been evident because she smiled, though it seemed strained to me, and said, “Go around thevolikithere,lirilla. You will see for yourself.”
Her mood had changed, though it was slight. An uncomfortable tension stretched in the empty space between us, becoming more palpable as the ringing sounds grew louder.
“When I have your shawl finished, I will come visit with you,lysi?” she told me.
Nodding, clutching her son’s gift in my hand, I said, “I would like that.”
She gave me one last smile and then disappeared quickly in the direction her son had gone. Then I turned where she gestured and slowly walked towards the sounds, my curiosity stoked like an ember.
It didn’t take me long to find the training grounds. They were quite hard to miss, in fact.
Inside a gated area, near the front of the encampment, were about a dozen horde warriors just beginning to spar one another. Close to the center, the demon king was among them, his golden sword ringing and hissing loudly as it connected with his opponent’s. For an incredulous moment, I thought that surely the blades weren’t real. The sparring looked much too real, brutal and rough. What happened if they accidentally injured one another?
Perhaps that is the point, I realized. How else would you become a better warrior if you did not know fear?
I didn’t dare to venture closer, instead deciding to stick close to the nearest tent, as I watched what unfolded before me.
Pure strength radiated from the warriors. It was in the graceful lines of their bodies, the strong, powerful arcs of their swords as they brought them clashing together in teeth-chattering rings. But it was also in the rough edges—the punches, the shoves, the physicality of fighting that went beyond their talented swordsmanship.
So, this is the might and power of the Dakkari, I thought, wide-eyed. And it was as terrible as it was mesmerizing.
My eyes couldn’t stay away from the demon king for long. Naturally, my gaze sought him out, trying to ignore the knowing that went through me, remembering waking in the middle of the night only to find my cheek pressed to his shoulder and my fingertips over his bare, chiseled abdomen. I’d reared away from him the moment clarity had returned, but I’d been too shaken to fall back into a deep sleep. What was worse was I knew I’d edged over to him during the night, as if, in sleep, my body knew how lonely and desperate I was for simple touch, for the warmth of another.
I remembered that right then, looking at the demon king. He’d been so, so warm.
Watching, I saw him grab his opponent’s sword arm at the wrist, twisting his body forward before bringing his own blade up to the warrior’s neck. A single line of blood appeared, a warning, a reprimand for the warrior’s defeat, and then the horde king pushed him away, looking for another.
In his determined perusal, his eyes caught mine across the barrier of the training grounds, his chest heaving, earth coating his legs and the sides of his chest from a brief scuffle. Though other warriors, even horde members—females, males, and excited children alike—had gathered at the fence to watch, his eyes still found mine.
Like a coward—with my breath hitching and my heart jolting at whatever I saw in his eyes—I turned on my heel and fled.
Chapter Eleven
It was dark when I returned to myvoliki. The biting wind made my jaw clench and in the distance, I heard themrikrostill in thepyrokienclosure, barking orders at the warriors I’d assigned to him. Though the hour was late, thepyrokimaster was driven to finish the last of the nesting dens before the first frost came.
When I reached the entrance of my tent, I inclined my head at the warrior standing guard.
“Any problems?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Nik. She wandered around the encampment most of the day and then watched thepyrokisin the enclosure. The healer is in with her now changing her dressings.”
Inhaling a long breath, I said,“Kakkira vor,” and then dismissed him from his post for the night.
When I ducked inside thevoliki, I heard a splash of water from the bathing tub and saw Nelle inside, obviously startled by my appearance. The healer was kneeling by her side, carefully washing the edges of her wounds, and my lips pressed together when I saw they were still reddened and raw, though they had healed considerably over the past week.
