by RJ Metcalf
Ben reloaded and aimed at the one closest to her. One of the eyes exploded. “Raine!”
She lunged forward at his shout, her sword now aglow with burning web fragments as she sliced through a pincer. The spider gave another unearthly scream and backed up, dropping from the ceiling just enough that its belly showed—smooth, soft scales visible in the darkening light.
Geist grunted behind Ben and staggered past him, holding a hand over his bleeding cheek. “Glad you have that thing.”
Ben placed a hand on Geist’s shoulder to hold him back while he sighted for the third spider. Geist waited for the puff of steam and the spider’s scream, then thrust his blade into the gut of the spider, skewering it. The remaining legs spread and jittered in waves of agony. It fell from the tunnel ceiling and skittered sideways on the floor, emitting a keening sound that raised the hair on Ben’s neck. Geist used the tip of his sword to flip it on its back, and Ben stepped back, gaping at the double rows of gnashing teeth. Geist pierced it and wiggled his sword back and forth until it stopped moving.
“There’s one more somewhere,” Ben warned.
“I can hear it.” Geist pointed back into the depths of the tunnel. “It sounds like it’s going further away.”
Possibly going into the Hollows? Ben chewed on that thought for all of a second before deciding that he didn’t care. He never wanted to see another dragon-spider in his life.
Geist wobbled on his feet, and Ben reached out to steady him. How much blood had Geist lost? “Are you OK?”
“I’ll be fine,” Geist mumbled. “Just need to rest.”
Raine let out a little gasp of relief, and Ben turned toward her in time to watch her scrabble out of the rounded tunnel, seeming to balance on the edge of the path. He set the safety on his pistol and returned it to his holster with a thankful pat as he hobbled forward to reach Raine’s side.
She stood tall, her back to him as she lifted her hand up, as if to touch the silvered moon. She shivered in the cold air, but seemed to almost embrace it. “I didn’t think I was going to see this ever again,” she said softly. Ben stood just behind her with Geist on his heels when Raine turned and hugged each of them in quick succession. Her tremulous smile practically shone in relief. “Thank you.”
Concern for all their wounds warred within Ben even as he started to answer, “Of course.” But Geist beat him to it.
“You’re welcome, but I’ll have to be honest. I’m just following this guy”—Geist hitched a thumb at Ben, the amusement in his tone taking any possible sting out of his words—“to make sure he didn’t die in his plan to get you out.”
“Which is great and all, but sit down and let me take a look at your face,” Ben ordered. He pointed to a nearby rock. “For being so concerned about my survival, you sure don’t take care of yourself, you know.”
Raine gave a tired chuckle and sank to the ground. “Well, thanks anyhow.”
Ben surveyed the rugged terrain. Lumpy clumps of rocks littered the sandy hill. The flattest part near them was the tunnel they’d just left. His heart sank. He could walk, but his leg would need some sort of medical attention, and hiking anywhere was going to be unpleasant at best, permanently damaging at worst.
“I suppose this is the best place for us for the moment. And we should rest before we keep moving.” He glanced at Geist. “What do you think? Camp here?”
Geist started to wrinkle his nose and stopped, sucking in a sharp breath and returning his hand to his cheek. He looked back in the tunnel. “What are the odds that they’ll notice we broke through and try to follow us? Or that the other dragon spider will return for us?”
“Let’s think happy thoughts,” Ben muttered. He started to crouch by Geist, but agony lanced through Ben’s leg, and he opted to kneel on one knee and let his injured leg stick to the side with less pressure on it. He nudged Geist’s hand away, trying to get a good visual on the injury on his face. A jagged gash from a scant inch below Geist’s eye ran straight down his cheek. Ben shook his head. “We don’t have anything to clean that out, do we?”
“I’ll just bandage it for now.” Geist shucked his jacket and took in the pale streaks of cobweb and dust. “Or maybe not.” He brushed off the worst of the grime and sighed before pulling out his dagger and cutting two long strips off the hem. He used the tip of the dagger to point at Ben’s leg. “Wrap that, too.”
“You know it.” Ben accepted the offered fabric strip and tied it securely around his calf. The torn flesh screamed in protest, then quieted to a dull throb.
“Well,” Raine drawled out the word, and Ben looked sharply at her. She’d crouched with her arms around her knees, head resting on them. Her brow knit and she frowned. “To answer Geist’s question, they’d either send a bunch of blood-bonded after us or just write us off as dead and leave it be.” She shrugged. “Of course, if there’s a dragon-spider hiding in the tunnel, that’ll make them assume we’re dead.”
If Artemis sent any amount of blood-bonded after them, they’d be in trouble. But if she wrote them off as dead, that’d be perfect.
“Let’s take shifts and rest here,” Ben decided finally. He didn’t like the idea of there being another spider on the loose, but there was no way that any of them could go further in their condition. He nodded to Raine. “How are your injuries?”
She glanced down at herself, then dabbed a finger against one of the blood-stains in her shirt. She gave him a tired wave. “I’ll live.”
Ben sighed. “I doubt any of us want to go any further right now, and it wouldn’t be safe to hike in the dark. I’ll take first watch, you both get some sleep.”
Raine blinked in acknowledgment and let herself slump sideways on the ground, rolling herself closer to the tunnel as she tucked her knees up to her chest. She was asleep in seconds.
“She’s tough. She’ll survive this place.” Geist commented, stretching out on the sandy half between the cave and the hill. He tilted his face up at the moon and gave Ben a shrewd glance despite having to squint on one side of his face. “Think you can handle four hours on your own? Or would two-hour shifts be better?”
“I’ll manage.” Ben shrugged. Geist gave a two-finger salute and pillowed his head with his hands, closing his eyes.
Ben limped up to the tunnel that they’d come out of, pausing to listen for any sounds of pursuit. Nothing but eerie silence met his ears, and he turned away in satisfaction. At least for this exact moment, they were safe.
But how were they going to get out of here? The little plan they’d had involved them waiting for news from Lucrum. At this point, who knew what was happening abroad. What was Artemis’s plan? Southern Terrene had an enemy force within their borders, and no one knew of it. How could the three of them get word out to Lucrum or any other city before Artemis swept through innocent lands? Where was her force now? Were they still organizing inside? Ben spun in a slow circle, unable to place where exactly they’d exited the mine. He estimated it to be at least a three-hour hike to reach the top of the not-quite mountain, and twice that to reach the foothill. He wouldn’t be able to walk there and back within his time restraints.
And for all he knew, the dragon-spiders hunted by the scent of blood. And all three of them would be perfect targets.
A cold breeze caressed his face, and he retreated to the tunnel entrance where it was just a bit more sheltered. As great as a fire would be for tonight, there was no way he’d even consider lighting a beacon like that. They’d have to make do with what shelter the tunnel offered.
He almost sat, but stopped mid-move. If he was doing anything but standing, odds were good he’d pass out in less than a minute. He’d have to stand until it was time to wake Geist.
His gaze fell on Raine. Smudges of dirt and streaks of salt added dark and light splotches all over her face and clothing. She shivered in her sleep, and he was halfway out of his jacket before even registering the thought. He checked where her sword was—within reach, but she wasn’t actively touching it. He
covered the hilt with one hand while he tucked his jacket around her as best he could. She hummed in her sleep and burrowed down into the jacket with a little sigh.
Whatever had happened to her in there hadn’t affected their dynamic when in a tight spot. But it had definitely hit her confidence, and it was something that when the topic was at hand, made her unable to meet his eyes.
So much like Sara. He slid his hands into his pockets, craving the slightest bit of warmth now that he’d shed his jacket—long-sleeved shirts only helped so much. And he contemplated his sleeping friend. He had a guess as to what she was hiding, and he desperately hoped he was wrong. Oh, did he wish he was wrong.
The night passed peacefully, and Geist woke for his shift with little grumbling, both of them agreeing to let Raine sleep with no watch. She may complain about it in the morning, but she’d been through a long day and deserved whatever rest she could get.
Ben woke to a cold, damp, gloomy morning and an empty stomach that loudly protested yesterday’s activities without much sustenance. He groaned and sat up in the sand, annoyed by the throb of a slight dehydration headache. He stretched his leg gingerly, and it howled in protest, the barely-healed skin pulling sharply. Raine perched by the edge of the tunnel, facing out to the valley below, wearing his jacket. She glanced back at him and her eyes widened.
She scrambled up and fumbled with pulling the jacket off. “Sorry, you should take this back, I—”
“Wear it,” Ben interrupted. “It’s cold and I don’t need it.” He risked a crooked grin. “It looks better on you, anyway.”
Raine hesitated, her gaze darting from Ben to the jacket in her hands. He nodded encouragingly, and his grin broadened into a full smile when she slipped it on.
“Congratulations,” Geist snickered. “You’re now a part of the Aerugan military.”
A small chuckle escaped her as she rolled her eyes. “Just what I always wanted.”
Light attempted to break through the thick clouds that had moved in through the night, but it was still dim. Ben squinted at the clumps of rocks he’d noticed last night. They moved sluggishly, like leaves in a tree with a gentle breeze. Then a head popped up. Another. Furred dragons with sand-and-dirt colored stripes like a zebra, and what looked like claws at least five inches long. Ben stumbled back, too surprised to swear. “Guys, I think we have trouble.”
Raine and Geist immediately quieted and came up to his side. Geist heaved a sigh and slapped Ben on the back. “You scared me, man.”
Raine gave Ben a small smile. “Munchers are herbivores. They won’t bother us as long as we don’t go running through their herd or anything like that.”
“I think I can manage that,” Ben snarked dryly. His mouth felt arid, but there was no lick of water in sight. He gestured to the top of the mountain. “Do we want to go up and over? Or down and around?”
Raine rubbed her forehead, considering. “Up and over. There’s a processing facility at the top for saline production, and they pump well water to up there.” She gave Geist a once-over. “Assuming you’re up to it, you could probably dash in and steal some water, and get your”—she gestured at his face—“cleaned up.”
Geist gave her a lop-sided smirk. “I’m always up for an adventure.”
Ben rolled his eyes and sighed at the rocky ground. “The sooner we get hydrated, the sooner we can figure our way out of here.” He grimaced as he stood. “We’ll just have to take it easy.”
Raine’s gaze traveled down him and came to a rest on his leg. Her eyes widened. “You’re hurt! When did that happen?”
“In the tunnel,” Ben tried to wave off her concern. She must’ve been truly out of it to not notice it last night. “I can walk. I’ll be fine. I just,” he took a step forward and sucked in a breath, “won’t be running anytime soon.”
Geist shook his head. “Here’s to hoping we can sneak around without finding anything that requires finesse.”
Ben glared at Geist. “Let’s not jinx us, shall we?”
Raine approached Ben and held out her arm. “If you need to, you can lean on me,” she offered quietly.
He gaped at her for all of a moment before nodding. He would need the help on the hill. “Thank you.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Christopher
Christopher stared out the window with unfocused eyes. It had been a pleasant surprise, being moved to what was apparently the wing for political prisoners. He hadn’t given the information he’d had or fought to protect Prince Weston’s life for a room upgrade, but he was definitely grateful for the thicker blankets provided here. Even if the bed was far too soft and the maid had been shocked to find him sleeping on the rug instead. The skin on his head itched as it healed, but the ointment the mani-med gave him worked wonders, and now it had been a full two days since he’d last seen Prince Weston. Longer for King Brandon. And Christopher was dying for news.
He’d never had so much free time before in his life, and never during times of civic unrest. This was the time that Christopher would be his busiest, out in the city, gathering information or skulking in shadows, or doing whatever his masters demanded of him. Now he didn’t have to do what dirty work his masters would’ve commanded, but now he wanted to use the freedom running through him to take those same masters down.
However that looked. Whatever it took.
Christopher knocked on his door and waited two steps back for them to open it. It was Blond Mustache and Never Smiles today. Blond Mustache poked his head in. “Yes?”
Christopher tried for a smile. “I’d like to speak with Prince Weston, please.”
Blond eyebrows rose. “Lord Weston is a very busy man.”
Oh. Lord Weston now. Would it kill them to provide a newspaper or anything that could help to keep him apprised of these details? “My apologies. I would like to speak to Lord Weston when time allows.”
Blond Mustache nodded curtly. “I’ll pass the message on.” He shut the door before Christopher could say any more.
Christopher leaned against the thick window pane, staring at the eastern sky. Had Brandon reached the Hollows yet? Would Christopher know through the bond if something had happened to Brandon? Though it galled him to admit to being afraid, it truly scared him to know that there was a possibility that the freedom he now tasted could be undone by Brandon’s death. What would happen? Would the last orders of Brandon remain? Fade away?
Christopher gripped the window sill, desperation seizing all his muscles. He had to be of use somehow. But how to help?
The morning light brightened to day, then darkened into dusk before the door opened, admitting Prince—no, Lord—Weston and his bodyguard. Weston strode in and plopped into one of the two chairs in the corner of the room. Circles lined under his eyes and he stifled a yawn. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Christopher sat across from him, moving slow enough that Niles wouldn’t have issue with it. Christopher studied Weston’s slumped posture. “Yes. I want to help somehow. Put me on the front lines. Use me to track down Victor and Pamela.” The thought of fighting Pammy made his throat clench, but Christopher pushed past the uncomfortable emotion. “Let me do something. I’m going crazy here and I want to fight. I now know how deeply they’d used me, and I need to do something about it.” He studied the light dents in the table. “Please.”
Weston ran a hand over the curls in his hair, sighing heavily. “I want to say yes, but I don’t how I could safely use you. What are the odds that someone who ranks higher than Brandon will find you and turn you back against us?”
Christopher had had the same thought, but hearing it from someone else made the ache of concern only hurt more. “From what I’ve been able to piece together, I’m guessing that Brandon and Victor hold the same rank.” Christopher blew out a breath. “And Victor holds the highest rank below the Coven leaders. So I’d assume that only a Coven leader can override whatever Brandon orders down here.”
“A Coven leader?” Weston let out a low whist
le. “That’s rather impressive, actually.” He tapped his fingers together idly while he thought, then shook his head. “When Brandon gets back, we’ll talk to him. That’s essentially the best I can promise right now. Even with the likelihood of a Coven leader being the only one who can overturn your orders, I don’t want to risk it.” Weston gave a helpless shrug. “I’m sorry. I wish I could do more, especially in light of your help earlier, but this is out of my hands, unfortunately.”
Christopher nodded, looking away from the prince and at the burgundy rug that he’d been using as a bed. “I understand. Thank you for that much.” He hesitated. “Have you heard from him? Did they make it to the Hollows yet?”
Weston shook his head, his shoulders bowing. “Nothing. They should have gotten there already, or by tonight if they ran into bad weather. But no, we’ve heard nothing yet.” He raised concerned eyes to Christopher. “Now you understand why we need to be cautious. For all I know, they walked into an ambush and are gone. Or things are going so well they’re just too busy to send a hawk this way. We just don’t know yet.”
Christopher swallowed hard. “Right.” Maybe it was better this way, if he stayed cooped up, unable to cause damage if something were to happen. There were too many unknowns and they just couldn’t risk it.
Weston’s chair scraped along the floor as he pushed against it to stand. “I’ll send some books or newspapers for you to pass the time with. Unless you have a different preference?”
“That would be great, thanks.” Christopher winced, but forced himself to speak his mind. “Please, make sure there’s nothing in what you give me that I can use against you, if things change. I don’t want to be a weapon against your people again.”
Niles shifted in the doorway and Weston’s eyes hardened. “Thank you for that concern. We’ll respect that wish.” Weston tapped a long finger against his chin, regarding Christopher. “What would you say to an information exchange? We’ll send newspapers to you, as I’d already agreed, and you compile whatever information of the north that you can think to provide. What we know is several decades outdated, and if we could learn anything in regards to locations of strongholds, known tactics, names of generals, Coven leaders, anything at all, that would be extraordinarily helpful.”
