Bells of the Kingdom (Children of the Desert Book 3) Read Free Page B

swirled in a subtle sigh, currents of heat threading across her skin. You do not hear me, her lover said. You cannot stay with me. You must go back to the air, to the human side of the world.
    The word cannot caught her attention. She looked up, frowning; in her arms, the infant stirred restlessly, whimpering a little. A vague dread settled thickly into her chest.
    “Of course we can stay,” she said. “We’re ha’ra’hain. We belong here, with you. You love us. You want us here.”
    No, her lover said. You are far, far from the place where I live, Ellemoa. To me, this place is cold and unpleasant. You could not endure my true bed, and the child is too tender yet to even try. You only endure this much because of my support, and I grow tired. I am old, Ellemoa. I must rest. You must seek out lessers for your support for a time. You must go back to the air.
    “No,” she said, dread spidering through her entire body. The infant burped, then began whimpering more loudly. “No, I can’t. They left me. They abandoned me! I only have the humans now, and they hate me. They’ll hurt me. You can’t send me back!”
    You must go back, her lover said, unrelenting, and the warm haze thinned rapidly.
    “No! No!”
    Protect the child, her lover said. It will be my last. I do not have the strength for another. It will be the one to come after me, in time. Protect the child, Ellemoa, so that it may protect this area.
    Before she could protest again, the mists disappeared under a flood of sunlight. She staggered, throwing up one arm to shield her dazzled eyes. The infant, jolted into a less secure hold, wailed furiously.
    Eerie mist lapped like iridescent water along the improbably thin strip of pebble-sand shore. Icy air slapped against her skin. She adjusted internal temperatures reflexively, and the shivering stopped.
    How could you? she railed, glaring at the diaphanous waters. How dare you? To leave me alone again, alone with the humans—I trusted you!
    There was no response. She could sense her lover sinking further into the scalding depths of the lake, indifferent to her rage.
    The child’s wail abruptly took on a more startled pitch. Moments later, a hard grip closed around each of Ellemoa’s upper arms.
    “Here she is, Captain!” a coarse voice crowed. “With a witch whelp, no less!”
    Humans. Rage frothed through her instantly. They were threatening her child. Herself. No! She would kill them all, squash them like the rude insects they really were—
    Something struck the back of her head, and she pitched forward to her knees, hovering on the fringes of a hazy near-darkness. A moment later a rough hand pulled her head back and a stinging, gritty powder drifted onto her face. The very touch of it felt obscene.
    She tried to shake it off, but it clung, searing like tiny drops of acid. Her screams of protest drew laughter from the humans around her, then another voice joined hers: “You’re hurting her! Stop it! She hasn’t done anything wrong!”
    Kolan. Kolan. She opened her eyes, blinking; for a moment she saw him, hands bound, on his knees as well, shouting at the men around them. Then the grit blew into her eyes, and she screamed, her vision blurring into agonized, fractured shapes.
    “We don’t have orders about a child,” someone said. “Damned if I’m hauling a witch-brat back to Bright Bay.”
    “How can you do this to me?” she shrieked. “How can you do this to my child?”
    “It’s demon-spawn!” a man yelled back.
    “Burn it!” someone else shouted.
    “Drown it!” a third voice suggested.
    “It’s a child! How can you harm a child?”
    “It’s a damned creature,” said a voice much closer to hand. “You’ll be joining it in due time, woman, never fear!”
    Her temper snapped. Humans. They were all insane. “The hells you say!” she shouted in his general direction. “No! You won’t lay a hand on either one of us!”
    She tried to surge to her feet, calling on the strength