Once during the walk down a particularly long passage, Kalena allowed herself to think about what had happened back in the glass room. Ridge had been moving silently beside her for a long while and she wondered if he was thinking about the same thing.
“How did it feel, Ridge?” Kalena asked quietly. “When you held the Key in your hands. What did it feel like?”
He didn’t look at her, but kept his attention on the corridor ahead. “Like I was connected to it. Part of it.”
“That’s the way it was with the Light Key. But it wanted to take over. It was using me, draining me.”
“I know. The Keys would have had us kill each other. Who knows what kind of energy that would have released?”
Kalena chewed on her lower lip. “You think the Keys would have absorbed that energy and used it somehow?”
“I don’t know. Kalena. I don’t think I want to know.”
“The strange part is that I never really got a sense of evil around the Dark Key,” she said thoughtfully.
“That makes us even,” he muttered. “I never got a sense of sweet, pure goodness around the Light Key.”
“I guess that’s logical. The Keys are tied to opposite ends of the Spectrum, but not necessarily to any real concept of good or evil. We’ve been taught that all our lives. They represent different, opposing sources of power.”
“Pure power can come from either end of the Spectrum,” Ridge agreed slowly. “And according to the Polarity Advisors, so can good or evil. But they’re two different sets of concepts. Balanced concepts.”
“Ah, but you males have always assumed that in a showdown, the Dark end would be stronger, haven’t you?”
Ridge shrugged. “Maybe. We think of the Light end of the Spectrum as being the feminine end, and I guess it’s fair to say most men think of women as the weaker sex. At least in a physical sense. The Polarity Advisors have always assumed that absolute power wielded by women wouldn’t be as strong as absolute power wielded by men.”
“Probably because Polarity Advisors are almost always male,” Kalena suggested dryly. “Well, at least the cult’s stupid experiment proved that notion was a lie,” she added, not without some sense of satisfaction.
“Don’t sound so smug, Kalena. We both had one hell of a close call back in that glass chamber and we’re not out of this yet.
But Kalena’s spirits were reviving rapidly as the shock of the experience wore off. “Do you suppose that for the rest of our lives we’ll argue about which of us was more powerful?”
“No, we will not.”
“Why not?”
“Because as of now I forbid any mention of the subject.”
Kalena’s mouth curved in the first real amusement she had felt in a long while. “That’s what I like about you, Ridge. You don’t allow yourself to get mired down in complex philosophical quandaries. Very straightforward in your thinking.”
“I’m learning that if he’s to stay reasonably sane, a husband doesn’t have much choice,” he answered, a touch of humor lacing his words.
Neither of them mentioned the uniquely sensual experience that had taken place between them in the chamber. Kalena wanted to ask Ridge if he had felt everything she had felt; she was almost certain he had. But somehow this didn’t seem like the appropriate time. She also longed to ask him if he had actually sensed the presence of their babe within her, but that, too, didn’t seem like a good topic of conversation at the moment.
Kalena was suddenly aware of a deep coldness invading her. She paused, trying to orient herself.
“What is it, Kalena?” Ridge held the lamp higher so that he could see her face.
“Nothing, I thought I felt a little colder, but I think it was just my imagination. These passages seem endless. I’m not sure we’re making any real progress, Ridge. Maybe we should work our way back and start over again from the corridor outside that glass room.”
He regarded her quietly for a long moment, his eyes unreadable in the lamplight. “Does the Key case feel any different?”
She glanced down at it. “No, not really.”
“Still warm?”
“I think so.”
“Then we’ll keep going.”
“But Ridge, I’m trying to tell you that I’m no longer sure I’m sensing anything at all from it.”
“What’s wrong, Kalena? You’ve been fairly certain of yourself ever since we started. Why the sudden loss of nerve?”
“I’m not losing my nerve! I’m just trying to explain that I’m not sure we can trust this case to lead us out of here.” Anger flooded back into her bloodstream, driving off some of the cold. The case in her hands seemed warmer again. “Very well, if you don’t want to listen to a rational discussion of the matter, let’s go on.” She stepped past him.
Ridge fell into step beside her. He had been wrong to goad her into continuing, but the truth was, he was certain they couldn’t turn back. He didn’t know why they had to keep going, he only knew that, in spite of the trail markers he had left, there was no hope for them if they had to turn around.
He had learned to trust his instincts a long time ago on the streets of Countervail. They had kept him alive during the dangerous years of working for Quintel. Deep down, he knew that the senses he had relied on in the past weren’t just functioning on instinct. They operated on a subtle process of interpretation and analysis, a matter of filtering through tiny clues and coming to conclusions that would have been impossible to explain in words.
But calling them survival instincts was easier. Ridge was a great believer in choosing the simplest explanation. Kalena was right. He was a straightforward sort of thinker.
He wasn’t certain exactly what had happened in the chamber of black glass, but he knew what the results of the confrontation were. He had fought a battle, the most desperate, dangerous battle of his life, but the prize had been worth any price. And he had won. Kalena was his. He would not let her be taken from him by anything, anyone or any power, regardless of which end of the Spectrum that power was from.
Torn between fire and ice, he had learned something else back in the black chamber. Kalena had fought the same savage battle to hold on to him. He was hers. She had confronted the fiercest power of her end of the Spectrum to protect him. Ridge was aware of a violent joy at the knowledge. They were bound together.
Perhaps she didn’t think of the bond between them in such simple, straightforward terms. He was sure Kalena’s thought processes were far more convoluted and erratic than his own. Far more feminine. Polarity Advisors traditionally warned men that it was useless to try to understand how a woman’s mind worked, and Ridge was inclined to agree. But it didn’t matter as long as she had reached the same conclusion. He frowned suddenly.
“Kalena?”
She glanced at him worriedly. “What is it?”
“I think you may be right.”
Her eyes reflected her dismay. “About going in the wrong direction?”
“No, about the cold. It is getting colder. The temperature in these corridors has always seemed the same to me, but now there’s definitely a cold draft coming from someplace.”
“A draft. Ridge, maybe it’s fresh air from outside!”
“How does the case feel?”
She looked down at it. “All right. I mean, it feels the way it has all along. Warm.”
He nodded. “Let’s keep moving.”
Kalena led the way along the passage, her step quickening as she became convinced that she was really feeling cold, fresh air from outside the caves. The floor of the passage began to tilt upward slightly and the corridor narrowed so that there was only room enough to move single file.
Ridge took the lead with the lamp. “Tell me if there’s any change in the feel of the case.”
“I will.”
The passage grew narrower. Ridge was forced to stoop in order to keep from hitting his head on the low ceiling. The closed in feeling began to bother Kalena.
“Ridge, if this c
orridor gets any narrower, I think we should turn back.”
“I can see moonlight, Kalena.”
Her sense of claustrophobia vanished. Kalena hurried forward, rounded a bend behind Ridge, and then she, too, could see moonlight and a handful of stars in the night sky ahead. Fresh, cold air filled her lungs and she wanted to laugh with relief.
“We’re free. Ridge, we did it. We’re safe!”
“I’m not sure where we are, but any place is better than where we’ve been.” Ridge ducked his head to squeeze his way out of the cave and automatically reached back to grab Kalena’s hand. Instantly he yanked his fingers back out of reach.
“Stones! Why do I keep forgetting?” he growled.
“I’m sorry, Ridge.”
“Never mind. It’s not your fault. It’s that damned Key. Just give me a chance to figure out where we are.”
They stood on the pebble strewn ledge and gazed around them. The scattered stars shone brilliantly in the night sky overhead. There was snow on the ground around them. Kalena knew they were still somewhere in the mountains, but beyond that she was totally lost.
“With any luck we’re just a little west of the trail,” Ridge announced.
“How can you tell?”
“Brilliant, masculine logic and luck. Mostly luck.” His grin flashed briefly in the light of the lamp. “Plus a lot of years figuring out how to read the night sky. Watch your step.”
Kalena followed Ridge down the short incline below the ledge where they had emerged from the cave. The night air was cold, but it was a reassuring, fresh, natural cold that Kalena didn’t really mind. Red Symmetra was a shining beacon in the sky.
“If we don’t find the trail fairly soon, we’ll have to camp out in the open,” Ridge said over his shoulder. “Not a major disaster since we’ve got some firegel, but I’d prefer to find the shelter.”
“I’m not sure I want to stay in that shelter again,” Kalena muttered.
“We’ll be safe enough. We’ll have the Key with us.”
“You’re right. Besides, I don’t think very many escaped from that glass chamber.” She shuddered. “Griss didn’t, that’s for sure.”
“No,” Ridge agreed, his voice hard. “Griss didn’t. He was a dead man from the moment he called you whore.”
Kalena shivered again but said nothing. Half an hour later they found the main trail. Ridge oriented himself almost immediately. He started upward instead of heading down the path. In a short time they found the shelter. The two creets and their loads of Sand were still safe inside.
The cheerful, welcoming chirps of the birds warmed Kalena as much as the fire Ridge set about building on the hearth.
Seventeen
Kalena sat on the pallet, her knees drawn up so that she could rest her chin on her arms as she watched Ridge feed another log to the flames. The case that held the Light Key lay on the floor near the door. Kalena was certain that its presence was a guarantee against being taken by surprise by more of the cold, black mist. Not that the possibility seemed likely. She had a feeling the destruction in the black glass chamber had been very thorough.
Her thoughts had been running through her head, loose and disorganized ever since she and Ridge had finished the evening meal. In the darkened stables that connected to the main room, the creets stamped contentedly a few times in their stalls as they settled down for the night. There had been plenty of food available to them during the past few days of captivity, and they had made the best of the situation, just as Ridge had predicted. The shelter’s stores were going to have to be replenished before another caravan came through the mountains.
Ridge had said very little since he had finished eating. He busied himself with checking the condition of the creets, going through the packs to make certain his supplies and the Sand were still safe, and he kept the fire going strong. Kalena had quietly prepared the meal and cleaned up afterward. They were both tired. Sometimes there was an advantage to accepting the customary division of labor, she decided ruefully.
Now it was time to go to bed, and Kalena was feeling unexpectedly uncertain and nervous. Her anxiety must have shown in her face, because Ridge got slowly to his feet and said without any emotion, “You can stop worrying about it. I’m not going to rape you.”
She flinched as if he had struck her. “I know that.”
He scowled, unbuttoning his shirt. “You’ve been sitting there for the past half hour thinking of what almost happened here last time, haven’t you?”
“No, Ridge,” she said gently, realizing he had misinterpreted her silence.
“Don’t lie to me, Kalena.” He flung his shirt aside in a gesture of annoyance and self-disgust. “I know exactly what’s going through that head of yours, and I’m telling you that you don’t have to worry.” He sat down on a low stool near the fire and concentrated on tugging off his boots. “I think it was the mist that got to me last time. I know that’s not an acceptable excuse, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”
“I understand, Ridge.”
His head came up abruptly. “Don’t be so damn understanding about it! I had no right to frighten you the way I did that night.”
“You wouldn’t have gone through with it.”
“How do you know?”
“Don’t you remember how you reacted when I reminded you that I wore your lock and key? Even though you were under the influence of whatever was surrounding this shelter, you stopped. And when Griss came through the door, you wouldn’t let him touch me.”
“Of course I wouldn’t have let him touch you.” There was a grim arrogance behind the words. The second boot hit the floor. “You’re my wife.”
“You would have died trying to defend me,” Kalena said in soft wonder.
“I would have killed trying to defend you,” he corrected her wryly.
“A more useful approach,” she admitted, hiding a smile.
He threw her a sharp glance. “Are you laughing at me, woman?”
“Never.”
He stood up again, thumbs hooked in his belt, and sauntered slowly toward her. The flames of the fire gleamed on the strong contours of his bare shoulders. There was a wary, speculative look in his eyes, a heated intimacy that slid along Kalena’s nerve endings.
“As it happens,” he said deliberately, “we wound up saving each other’s lives.”
“Yes.”
Ridge hesitated. “It was a little shaky there for a while, but when the crunch came we worked well together, didn’t we?”
Kalena studied the floor in front of her. “Yes,” she said again. “We did.” Trust a man to phrase it like that. Passion and power, life and death had all been on the line back in that chamber. She and Ridge had survived and he termed it working well together. Well, perhaps that was one way of putting it, she thought in amusement.
He sat down beside her on the pallet, not touching her. “I know you never wanted to be married,” he said with a kind of quiet gruffness. “At least, you didn’t want anything more than a trade marriage.”
Kalena said nothing. She was afraid to open her mouth. “You’ve told me often enough about your dreams of being a freewoman.”
Kalena tensed inside.
“I can’t offer you complete freedom, Kalena,” Ridge finally said softly. “I’d be lying if I said I could. The only consolation I can give is to tell you that I don’t consider myself free, either. There are things I want to do, things that have to be done. No man who wants to build something lasting for himself and his family is free. I know I haven’t any proud House name to offer you. But I swear on my honor that I’ll take care of you. Better care than I seem to have taken on this journey, I trust. Someday I’ll give you a House name you can be proud of. In the meantime, you won’t go cold or hungry, I’ll see to that. And I give you my oath that I will not dishonor you by being unfaithful. I want you very badly, Kalena. I need you. I think that we belong together. Will you consider making the marriage permanent?”
Kalena blinked bac
k her tears. She was afraid to meet his eyes. “You honor me with your proposal, Fire Whip.”
He was very still. The tension in him was palpable. “Kalena?”
“I accept your offer of a permanent marriage,” she stated with gentle formality.
He drew a deep breath. His eyes burned into hers. “Just like that?”
“Do you want me to make it more complicated?”
He groaned and reached for her, pulling her head down to cradle against his shoulder. “No, I do not want you to make it more complicated. I want it to be just like this. Simple. Honest. Real.” His hand moved in her hair, twisting in the thick curls. “You’re mine, Kalena. I could never let you go now.”
“You are as trapped as I am, Fire Whip.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” He bent his head and found her mouth with his own.
There in the firelight they sealed their vows with a kiss that carried the power of a love that was strong enough to defy both ends of the Spectrum. Without words they acknowledged the bonds that held them fast to each other.
After a long time, Ridge reluctantly lifted his head. A brief, knowing smile edged his mouth.
“What kind of trader’s luck brought you to me, Kalena?” he asked whimsically.
She smiled back, touching the hard line of his jaw with a soft fingertip. “It wasn’t trader’s luck. It was a trade marriage, remember? Not the most auspicious start for a permanent arrangement, I’ll wager. I never dreamed my future would take this form.”
Ridge put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes narrowed. “From what I can tell, your path has never been clear to you. You were born with the Talent, but never got a Healer’s training. You thought you had to kill a man in order to avenge your House, but found yourself incapable of killing in cold blood. You wanted to be a freewoman, but instead you got yourself chained to a husband and dragged along on a wedding trip that could easily have gotten you killed.”