Rebel's Honor(18)

Lynx snatched the axe from him and ran her fingers down the twin blades,  engraved with dragons' heads. Both edges were sharp enough to make  matchsticks of the furniture. The black hilt, resembling an elongated  dragon's body, tapered down to four sharpened claws, ideal for ripping  flesh. The words Axel Avanov were engraved on the dragon's belly.

As ugly as the axe was, she acknowledged the brilliance of the  craftsmanship. And it was a weapon-the one thing she had sought since  leaving Tanamre. She had to filch it because she'd never sleep easy  again if she didn't have something sharp and deadly under her pillow.

Despite her uncle's warning, she asked in her sweetest voice, "What makes you think I wouldn't use it on you?"

"This time, you'd have to catch me first." Avanov's hand moved to the ruby next to his eye.

So he had enhanced powers, too.

Lynx frowned, strangely saddened by that fact. Why would Axel Avanov, a  man endowed with a strong and lean body, a rough but handsome face,  natural agility, and superior intelligence, need to deface himself?

With no answers, she took her frustration out on the nearest chair.

With one swing of the axe, she shaved the wooden arm rest in two.  "Winds, your axe has a lovely balance." She swiped again, this time  slicing the wood and upholstery. The two halves of the chair clattered  to the floor. "I love the feel in my hand."                       
       
           



       

Axel watched her with open appreciation.

It sent a flutter of . . . of something totally unexpected and unmentionable coursing through her stomach.

A reaction too horrible to consider.

How can I find him attractive? He's an Avanov! The bastard who sent guardsmen to attack Norin. To kill Hare!

Needing to be rid of him, she took a chance and said, "Thanks for the  gift." She held up the axe. "I'll just take it to my compartment."

A chortle. "Nice try, Princess, but I still need both my legs." He held out his hand for the weapon.

Lynx pretended not to notice and sauntered toward the door. He grabbed  her flapping skirt-that would never happen with trousers and a tunic-and  tugged her to a halt. "Not so fast, Princess. Hand it over."

With a sigh, Lynx slapped the handle down on his open palm.

Her dice roll should have taught her she'd never be lucky enough to score a weapon so easily.

The door opened, revealing Mother Saskia.

Axel groaned. "Well, there's my cue to leave."

Had he said that because he was no longer required to monitor them? Or  was it because he so obviously disliked the priestess and what she stood  for? Although she doubted it, Lynx hoped it was the latter.

Her eyes fluttered closed, angry with herself for caring.





Chapter 13





It was past midnight on the last night of Lynx's train journey. In the  salon car, the she-witch knelt at the feet of her Dragon and Colonel  Stefan Zarot leafed through some official-looking papers while Lynx sat  with her uncle. She yawned, ready for bed. She was about to wish her  uncle sweet dreams when the priestess excused herself.

The moment the door closed behind her, Stefan Zarot rose from his seat  and strode across the car. He pulled out a chair and sat next to Lynx.  The act was so unusual, she settled back to see what he wanted.

"Ah, Colonel Zarot." Uncle Bear smiled his thin smile. "Please, feel free to join us."

Zarot didn't acknowledge her uncle's sarcasm-although who could tell  with his inscrutable face? "So, tell me, Princess Lynx, are you ready to  take on your responsibilities as Crown Princess of All Chenaya and the  Conquered Territories?"

Lynx narrowed her eyes. "I assumed that lofty title only comes after my marriage to the crown prince."

"Yes, an event set to take place in a couple of days." Zarot tapped his fingers against his thigh.

Lynx frowned, wondering what had him so riled.

"Life in the Heartland will be very different than what you have known."

Lynx glanced at her uncle before answering, but his face had become as  impassive as Zarot's. With no support forthcoming, she decided to prod  the Dragon with a sharp comment, just to gauge Zarot's reaction. Maybe  that way, she could understand his unusual behavior. "The Heartland is  indeed a fascinating place for those of us who come from the outer edges  of the empire. We have no witches to manipulate us with superpowers  there."

Uncle Bear blinked once. "Colonel, I'm sure what Princess Lynx means-"

Zarot surprised Lynx by holding up his hand to her uncle. "By late  afternoon tomorrow, we will be in Cian." He fixed his dark eyes on her.  "There will be a special welcome for you. I hope you will prepare for  it." He stood, gave her a shallow bow-nothing too respectful-and left  the car.

Lynx turned to her uncle. "And that?"

"I have my suspicions." He fixed her with a disapproving glare.

She smiled wryly. "I'm just trying to understand the man."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that honey works better than vinegar? Or, in your case, a sweet smile and a flutter of eyelashes."

Lynx waved her hand, glad to finally be alone so she and her uncle could  talk frankly. "I missed that lesson. I was too busy learning the best  machete moves to take down a guar-"

"I get the picture," her uncle interrupted quickly. "I would gladly kick your father's arse for leaving you so unprepared."

Despite the impropriety of speaking about her king like that, Lynx  sniggered. Not in her wildest dreams could she imagine her prim and  proper uncle kicking anyone anywhere, least of all in the arse.

"He has total faith in your ability to redeem me." Her laughter faded,  and her fear returned. "Should we be expecting trouble tomorrow? I  didn't exactly get a warm welcome when I arrived."

"A word of advice when dealing with Chenayans: Always expect trouble. In that way, you'll never be disappointed."

Lynx bit her lip. If Stefan Zarot was right, her time with Uncle Bear  could be over very soon. With thousands of guardsmen stationed at  Tanamre, she needed information too desperately to be reticent. "Perhaps  now would be a good time to plan our spying expeditions."                       
       
           



       

"No, Lynx!" Uncle Bear gripped her arm. "These are not things we discuss in the open."

Lynx's mouth gaped. "But we're finally alone. No one can hear us."

Her uncle's eyes swept the car. "No one is ever alone in Chenaya." He  stood. "Save your questions for when we get to my home. Hopefully, I  will be able to answer them then. At least the ones that won't get us  killed."



* * *



At first, Lynx couldn't decide what had woken her. After lying still for  a moment, she realized the train had stopped. She hopped out of bed,  padded to the window, and looked out into the darkness.

An unfamiliar grunt and hiss came from in front of the locomotive.

She poked her head out. The lights of two additional locomotives winked  at her through clouds of soot and steam. The behemoths edged toward  their engine.

They must have finally reached the outskirts of the formidable Serreti Mountains.

The soaring peaks and precipitous gorges of the range stretched north  and south for thousands of miles, nearly cutting the continent in half.  It was the final bastion protecting Cian, the ventricle of the  Heartland, from the rest of the empire.

Job done, the guardsmen hopped back on board. The lead locomotive let  out a piercing whistle, and the train juddered forward, gradually  picking up speed as the wheels sliced their way across the tracks.

Lynx crawled back to bed, nestling under her comforter. Her thoughts  turned first to Uncle Bear's cryptic comments about never being alone in  Chenaya. Fear filled her, driving away all hope of sleep. She firmly  shifted her mind to happier things.

Home. Clay's egg raid she'd traded her happiness for. And bound myself  with more oaths than any normal person could bear. That was not a  sleep-inducing thought, either, so she pushed it away.

She rubbed her wrist, where Heron's watch had been. She pulled her hand  away. No! There is no point in hanging on to what may have been. That  won't help either of us. In time, he will move on, and I-

She didn't want to think about what time would bring to her.



* * *



Lynx's second wake-up call came from a sharp jerk of the train. A solid  line of rock blocked the view, and much of the light, from her window.  She guessed it was close to breakfast time. Although a plains girl, she  knew the sun always rose later in the mountains.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that dinner had been served a long  time ago. She rose, flung off her pajamas, and rummaged through her  trunk for a dress from her uncle's collection. Her hand brushed two  silver bracelets Heron had given her when she had first won her egg.  That gift had been the start of their friendship. Determined that no  Chenayan would ever get their hands on those treasures, she wrapped them  carefully in a sock and shoved them into a pocket of a jacket at the  bottom of the trunk. She dressed quickly into another black bustled  dress.