Taming the Giant Read online

  “I will come with you.” Jenla came forward, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. She was looking not at Alanah, but at Ren, who was standing behind her. “I dreamed of you,” she said in a low voice. “I…I dreamed you needed me.”

  “And so I do, lovely one.” Ren came forward to take her hands in both of his. Leaning down, he pressed gentle kisses into her palms. “I dreamed of you as well, Jenla,” he murmured.

  “I dreamed of that one,” Grenlah the town crier exclaimed loudly, pointing at a strapping Kindred who was even a bit taller than Bram. He came forward and picked her up, spinning her around until she squealed in delight and laid an eager, smacking kiss on his lips.

  After that, many of the women came forward. Young and old, rich or poor, almost everyone, it seemed, had been dreaming of the giants from beyond the stars.

  At last there were only a handful of the sourest and snobbiest noblewomen left. They had clustered around Thiera, as though the Elder Witch could somehow protect them from this new threat.

  Thiera, for her part, looked absolutely furious.

  “Go if you wish,” she cried in a high, dramatic voice. “But know this—each and every one of you will be barren. For I will not say a ritual for any of you who go with these demon spawn. And you—” She stepped forward and poked Alanah in the chest hard, with one pointed finger. “You, my princess, will be damned for all eternity for leading your people into this evil trap.”

  “Don’t touch my female,” Bram growled, stepping between them and glaring down at Thiera. “And no one needs your rituals, Witch. We of the Kindred have our own sacred oils and rites. We are well able to help our females bloom—just as I helped Alanah bloom last night.”

  “Oh, Alanah—is that true?” It was Jenla, looking at her with hope and anxiety written on her pretty face. “Were you really able to bloom without the ritual?”

  “It’s true.” Alanah gave her a reassuring hug. “You need not fear. The Kindred have arts which far surpasses anything the Elder Witch can do. We do not need her—she has no power over us anymore.”

  “No power, eh?” Thiera’s face was a mask of fury. Suddenly she stepped forward and pulled one long, sharp feather from the rustling headdress she wore. Quick as a striking snake, she darted at Alanah.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Bram moved to intercept her but the Elder Witch didn’t even try to get around him. Instead, she reached out and scratched the back of his hand with the quill end of the pitch-black feather she held.

  “I…you…” Bram took a staggering step back, as though suddenly unsteady.

  “Bram?” Alanah ran to his side just as he slumped to his knees. “Bram, beloved, what is it?” she exclaimed.

  “I…I don’t know. She…she’s done something to me.” His head was hanging low but at last he managed to look up at Alanah.

  What she saw in his face made her gasp in horror.

  “Oh Gods and Goddesses, no…no!” She put a hand to her mouth as though to stifle the cry of terror and grief but she couldn’t hold it back.

  “What? What is it?” Jenla rushed to put her arm around Alanah, supportive as always. But when she saw Bram, she gave a cry too. “The red-eyed death! The plague,” she moaned. “Oh Gods above, no! No, please—not again!”

  For the whites of the big Kindred’s eyes had suddenly turned blood-red. It was an unmistakable sign that death was stalking him.

  “Bram!” Alanah felt tears rise in her eyes, but then her sorrow turned to fury. “You!” She rounded on the Elder Witch, pointing an accusing finger at the older woman. “You did this! You gave my beloved the plague.” Sudden understanding dawned on her. “And you must have given it to my father as well.”

  “And if I did? What of it?” Thiera held her head high, looking down her long nose at Alanah as though she was less than dirt. “He had ruled too long and I was tired of being under his thumb. I knew the only way to take control was to get rid of him.”

  “But…all the other men.” Jenla looked at her numbly. “All the brothers and husbands and sons and fathers and fiancés. I lost my Yulen.”

  “And I lost my Tiffen—my little boy,” another woman said, coming forward.

  “And my husband!”

  “And my little brother, Gareth. He never did anyone any harm—he was only nine!”

  As more and more women came forward, Thiera held up her hands imperiously for silence.

  “It was regrettable that the plague spread from the king to the other males in our kingdom,” she said loudly. “But what does it really matter? What good are men anyway? We are better off without them, are we not?”

  “You may well say that, Thiera,” Alanah said, her voice still shaky with grief and shock. “Because you didn’t lose anyone. In fact, I think you’re the only woman who didn’t.”

  “She killed our men! Our husbands and fathers and sons and brothers!” shouted Grenlah, who had left her tall Kindred to come stand by Alanah and Jenla. “The Witch took everyone we loved and she’s not even sorry!”

  “Stone her!” someone shouted and soon others took up the chant.

  “She killed those we loved!”

  “Kill her!”

  “Hang her!”

  “Stone the Witch! Stone her dead!”

  “No! No, wait!” Alanah gasped, throwing out her arms to stop the mob from surging forward. “Wait, I must get the antidote first! I cannot let another man I love die of the red-eyed plague!”

  But Thiera laughed shrilly in her face.

  “Stone me, Princess, if you dare. But don’t hold out hope I’ll give you the cure—there is no cure.” She pointed her finger at Bram, who was still on his knees, his breathing labored. “He’s dead! Already dead! As dead as that old fool, your father!”

  Alanah couldn’t help herself then. She drew back her hand and slapped the Elder Witch as hard as she could. Then she ran to Bram and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Bram, oh, Bram!” she gasped, pressing her face to his broad shoulder as tears began to well from her eyes.

  “What is this? What has she done? What poison did she use?” Ren was suddenly there beside her, looking anxiously at Bram, whose eyes were red as blood.

  “Don’t touch him, my love.” Jenla was at his side, urging him to step back. “The red-eyed plague spreads like wildfire between males who touch. You must be careful”

  “She’s…right,” Bram rasped, holding up a hand to tell his friend to keep his distance. “Can’t…risk contaminating the crew. Stay…back.”

  “The hell I will.” Ren sounded angry. Lifting his voice, he stared shouting orders. “Trek, bring me a hazmat suit in the captain’s size—I know we have at least one in the shuttles. And you two…” He pointed at two large Kindred guards. “Hold that female’s arms and take away her cape and headdress.”

  “No! No!” Thiera struggled against the strong hands that restrained her.

  “Careful,” Ren directed. “Don’t let her scratch you with the feathers—they’re poisoned.”

  At that moment the first Kindred called Trek came back, carrying a bulky white bundle.

  “Princess,” Ren said, taking it from his hands and turning to Alanah. “Do you think you can help Bram put this on? It will keep the infection—the poison—contained so that it cannot infect anyone else.”

  “I…I think so. But what can you do for him?” Alanah asked anxiously. “Can…can you cure him?”

  “I’m going to try my damndest—with the help of those.” He pointed to the feathered headdress and cape which one of the Kindred guards was holding at an arms length, as though it was a poison snake which might strike at any moment. He nodded at the angry Thiera, still hissing and spitting like a scalded catkin in the guards’ grip. “If she won’t tell us what the poison is, I’ll analyze it myself and concoct an antidote.”

  Alanah felt a surge of hope. “Oh, do you really think you can?” she whispered.

  Ren looked at her seriously.

  “Princess, I swear to