Free Elyon by Ted Dekker Page B

had to get the amulet back from Sucrow. I wasn’t trying to cheat you, I promise.”
    “Look upon me, my pet.” Shaeda’s fingertips traced his throat, his jaw, his lips.
    He found his voice. “You have more than enough power to free her.”
    “Power?” Darsal scoffed. “I am a slave, Johnis.” Her eyes widened as she realized he hadn’t meant her. The Leedhan had him in her grasp. “Let him be.”
    “All in time. I will not abandon you.” Shaeda stroked his cheek. The heavy, oppressive darkness bore down on his mind. His body tensed. Senses heightened.
    Shaeda and he were one.
    “She means no harm,” Johnis said. Shaeda said. Did he really believe that? Did it matter? “She guides and protects me. She loves me.”
    “She’ll use and kill you,” Darsal warned.
    Shaeda embraced him. Her iron grip held him fast. Her scent and gaze overwhelmed him. She kissed him. Hard and long. Needlelike teeth pinched his lip. She . . . bit him. Blood trickled from the small puncture.
    “Silvie loves you, Johnis. So does Elyon. Even I do, when you aren’t being foolish.” Darsal, not Shaeda.
    The Leedhan nipped him again. Johnis tried to turn his head and pull out of her kiss, but her slender arms and lithe body held him fast. When she finally drew back, a small drop of his blood glittered on her eerie white skin. Johnis licked his lips and tasted salt and iron.
    Her mind opened to him once more.
    “Johnis!” Darsal slapped him, hard, and grabbed him by the tunic. Her dark eyes met his. “Listen to me.”
    Shaeda couldn’t be kissing him, could she? It was just another mirage, another illusion to control him . . .
    His lip curled. Shaeda hissed. “Give me the amulet!”
    Darsal drew back, scowling. Shaeda grabbed at her. Darsal slashed Johnis’s arm with her fingernails and darted free. Shaeda’s power poured into him. He would kill her.
    No, he didn’t want to kill Darsal, did he?
    “Grab me like that again,” Darsal warned, “and I’ll give the amulet right back to the priest.”
    Shaeda snarled. She—Johnis—lunged for Darsal again. The albino grabbed Johnis’s wrist and slammed him into the sand.
    “Johnis, stop it!”
    He was on his feet in a second and dove for Darsal’s throat. She dodged. Shaeda pounced.
    Johnis struggled hard. He was mad at her, but he didn’t want to kill her, did he? Shaeda squeezed him, breathing threats. His vision went black.
    A white wing soared past their heads. Shaeda shrieked and jumped back. Johnis’s gaze shot skyward. A Roush!
    She feared Roush as well? His entity slammed the door shut on all thought.
    Darsal snatched the amulet from where it had fallen. She turned and ran toward the officers before the Leedhan could recover.
    “You fool!” Shaeda snapped.
    Embracing Shaeda’s wrath, Johnis bared his teeth. Silvie was still with the priest. He’d kill that albino.

ten
    G abil, thank Elyon,” Darsal whispered as she ran. The Roush darted around her shoulders, soundlessly following her. Torchlight settled over rock and sand, turning both orange and yellow. Smoke drifted around the warriors. Marak and his men were still meeting. She crept forward.
    “Try not to do anything foolish,” Gabil whispered back, worried. “There is no sense in you getting killed, although you might have assisted Silvie while you were at it. I daresay you’d be best off destroying that thing.”
    “There wasn’t time. And I don’t have a choice. Marak will be in a world of trouble if something happens.” Gabil didn’t answer. “Besides, I can’t love him if I’m dead.”
    “You’ve a point.”
    Sucrow said something she couldn’t hear. He sounded low and dark, a serpent on the hunt. Darsal’s skin prickled.
    “Leave her out of this,” Marak barked back. “My private life is not your concern.”
    Sucrow laughed. Spoke clearly. “You’re still in love with a dead albino, aren’t you?”
    Metal sang from a scabbard.
    “Put that away, General.”
    “If I can execute my