“Like hell you will,” Mirin said and she leapt forward, arcing a blast of energy straight towards Elfrind. He was too fast, his movement carrying him out of the range of the attack. He spun as he retreated, striking back with a blast of his own. There was no time for Mirin to react. The blow struck her face, shattering the right side of her mask. She staggered back and for a moment, Kirheen thought she was looking at herself. The Seeker’s hand rose to cover her face before she could get a closer look, and she retreated back as the other woman took her place.
“I’ll come back,” Elfrind said again. Realizing his predicament, he shot out his hand. The back wall of the castle exploded outwards, and he followed the path of destruction, arcing out and away from them. He disappeared below and the woman almost dove after him. With a growl, she stepped back away from the edge and turned her attention to the others.
Kirheen could smell the salt of the sea, a faint breeze swirling through the room and fluttering her hair. She sucked in a breath, immediately regretting the decision. Her ribs screamed, bone scraping against bone, a sound she could feel reverberating throughout her body. Her knees wobbled, her strength fading fast. Hands caught her and steadied her, kept her from colliding with the ground. She just wanted to sleep.
“Kir! Hey, stay with me. Are you hurt? What did he do to you?”
“I couldn’t stop him,” she huffed. “I couldn’t. My power…”
“Depleted but not gone,” said an unfamiliar voice. “It’ll return to you in time. Just rest.”
Tomias looked back over his shoulder. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”
“You’re welcome,” the woman retorted. “Let’s just say I’m a friend of an acquaintance of yours. I’m also the only person in this room that can help her.”
The woman approached and Tomias clung tighter to Kirheen, his hands clutching her shoulders. “I can’t trust you with her, not after this. You don’t know—”
“-anything about this,” the woman said, her hand rising to the collar of her shirt. She yanked down hard, revealing a line of glimmering crystals cutting a line between the swell of her breasts and up to her collarbone. “Let me take care of her. I believe I’m more qualified than anyone.”
The world spun and swayed as she was handed off to a stranger. Warm hands caressed her face. She smelled of the sea breeze, of old books, and the damp of the earth. “Rest now,” she said, the slightest hint of an accent coloring her words.
And so she did. Kirheen let herself sink into the folds of sleep, coaxed there by a stranger. She dreamt strange dreams, of a woman in shimmering white, her hair glowing like the stars themselves. Her eyes were golden discs, knowledge and power, stardust brought to life. “Keep hold of your gift,” she whispered. “For if it is lost, everything ends.”
CHAPTER 10
“Ah, Val’shar. City of the Gods. God? What is the consensus on that matter these days?” Barog pondered to the wind, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the looming city.
Garild looked up at the vast walls on the cliffs overhead, towering over them like great stone giants. The only structure he could see over the walls was a castle, dark spires twisting into the air. He imagined what the view must look like from so high, to see the vastness of the ocean and the sprawling buildings of Val’shar for miles on end. “I guess if the royal family has anything to say about the matter, they’ll still be touting that Zekar is the one and only god and lopping off the heads of those that disagree.”
“What a brutal sentiment out of a mere child,” Barog scoffed, his mock expression of shock making Garild bristle.
“I’m not a child!”
“And yet he’s not wrong,” Samira said, joining them on deck. Gone were the fine silks, the vibrant colors, the bangles and delicate rings. She was well covered, wearing clothing fit for the streets of Val’shar. Mostly. Her top was as dark as the night sky, glittering with thousands of tiny gems and edged in delicate lace. The crystals on her chest were hidden away, but even still, he could see a faint glow through the fabric. Loose skirts swirled about her ankles, forced into motion by the strong winds whipping across the deck. Nothing about it suited her and, as if reading his thoughts, she glared at him and itched at the fabric pressing against her wrists. “Eyes off, Garild. I hate this enough as it is.”
Garild shrugged. “To be honest, it isn’t likely to help you all that much. You kind of stand out in a crowd. Well, a crowd in Val’shar anyway.”
“A little too tall, dark, and voluptuous?” she questioned, one eyebrow raised. She raised her hands behind her head, gathering her dark hair and deftly tying it before the wind could tangle it further.
Garild flushed.
“The description fits,” Barog agreed, smile widening. “Though something tells me Samira isn’t here to hide.”
Samira looked up at the city, shielding her eyes from the sun shining bright overhead. “That might normally be true, but something tells me we should keep our heads down. There is a lot going on that we don’t know enough about. Look at them at the docks, pacing like hungry jungle cats. Something happened. We stay discreet, at least until I decide otherwise.”
They were still far from shore, but he could see a few men standing on the docks, their heads turned towards their ship, eyes watchful. Samira was right, it was better to stay cautious. “Uff, how do neither of you feel this?” Samira asked, her face scrunched as if she smelled something foul. “It’s like a damned storm cloud hovering over my head. The air is electric. It doesn’t feel right.”
Barog shook his head. “Looks like a perfectly fine day to me.”
She glared, her eyes darting to Garild. He shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Samira. I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. I believe you though. You think it’s what we’re after?”
“I don’t know. I can’t say for sure. This feeling though, it’s been getting stronger. Guess we’ll find out what it means soon enough. Come on, let’s head below deck and get this meeting over with, shall we?”
“Take her home, boys,” Barog yelled to his crew, falling into step with Garild as they followed Samira below. They entered a small room off to the right. Trista and Isa were already seated at a table in the far corner. Isa perked up at the sound of the door, but Trista kept her head to the table, groaning as she fought against her sea sickness.
Isa smiled as Garild approached, her luminous blue eyes causing his steps to falter. His breath caught in his throat and he tried to find any other place to look but into her eyes. Her potential was still such a mystery to him. They’d never discussed the kiss they’d shared back in Sharmir, about what it might mean in the future. With the chaos of what was happening around them, it had been swept under a rug, momentarily ignored. Easier to pretend it had never happened at all. Easy, but not entirely possible, not with those beautiful eyes always seeking him out.
Another time, another place. When this madness was all over, he’d see where that path led, but there was too much at stake for distractions when the future remained so uncertain. Despite such thoughts, he couldn’t entirely avoid temptation. He took a seat next to Isa, basking in the warmth of her smile. “We’re so close now. How are you holding up?” she asked.
“I’m nervous. Being here wasn’t exactly how I’d planned things.”
“Not exactly how you’d planned to reunite with her?”
He almost asked who she meant, as if it wasn’t clearly implied by the lowering of her eyes, the subtle dip of her voice. She raised her gaze, watching him intently, seeking an answer he didn’t know how to give. He tried not to talk about Kirheen around Isa, knowing all too well the memories that would be triggered for her. Her bond mate, Ian, had betrayed her in every sense of the word, and Kirheen had a lot to do with that betrayal. Thinking about it still felt like a knife to Garild’s heart. He couldn’t begin to imagine how it felt to Isa. At least his bond mate was still alive.
His feelings were so uncertain, a tangled ball of yarn he’d toss
ed in the corner and tried to forget about. There had been a time when he’d loved Kirheen, when she’d been his entire world. He’d trained so hard trying to impress her, to show her that he could be trusted with her thoughts and feelings, that he would be there for her always. And then she’d betrayed him. He’d lost his hand. His heart. His mind. So why did he still care?
“Garild?”
“I’m sorry, Isa. Just got lost in thought. Yeah, I’m nervous about it. And everything else.”
“She’s your friend. It’s okay to be worried about her.”
“Isa, we don’t have to talk about it.”
Her eyes shifted away and the absence of her gaze seemed to dim the world around him. The others were settled, prepared to discuss the plan for getting into the city. The discussion between them died as quickly as it had started, but the feelings it had conjured lingered in his soul like a dark cloud.
Do I still have feelings for Kirheen?
“Garild, you with us?” Samira asked. He felt the familiar touch of her power against his mind, prodding him to attention.
“Yes. Yes, I’m here. Sorry. Go ahead.” He tucked his thoughts away. They could be dealt with later. For now, there were more important things to worry about, like how they planned to walk into Val’shar without getting their heads lopped off in the process.
“Good. Obviously, we know very little of what is happening in Val’shar as of late. Tensions were quite high last I heard, and I don’t expect that has changed. If anything, we can expect things to be even worse. Essentially, we’re going into this blind,” Samira said. “We’re going to attempt to dock and see what we can learn. It’s possible we’ll face resistance. Because of this, we’re keeping our group small, and by small, I mean Garild and myself.”
Barog grimaced. “You make that sound like it’s not up for negotiation? I don’t believe that is the best of ideas, my friend.”
“That’s why I never asked for your opinion on the subject,” she said coyly. “Listen, we don’t know enough. I can’t even say for certain where we’ll find the source of this… feeling. I can’t risk not being able to protect you all, not the way things are now. The only reason I’m bringing Garild is to make sure I don’t start leaking devastation all over Val’shar while I search for answers. End of story.”
“I’m inclined to agree with Barog,” Garild argued. “Are you really sure just the two of us is enough? What if we run into trouble? You might be able to protect us, but I’m not sure I’m up to the task of protecting you.”
“It’ll be fine. Don’t underestimate me, Garild, or yourself. Val’shar is a big place, but it’s also dangerous. It is far easier to skulk around the city with just the two of us then it would be to take the whole group. We may draw attention, but it’s guaranteed if we’re lugging Barog around with us.”
Isa shook her head. “It just doesn’t feel right. I understand what you’re trying to say, but there are so many things that could go wrong. What if you get separated?”
Garild’s stomach clenched. She was worried about him, worried about something happening. He caught her eye, gave her a smile. “It’ll be fine, Isa. You’ve felt her power. You really think she’d let something happen?”
“No, no. Of course not, I just…never mind.” She didn’t seem inclined to argue, but he didn’t miss her hands wringing in her lap or the fear smoldering in her blue eyes. He didn’t like the idea any more than she did, but what could be done? What Samira wanted, Samira had a tendency to get.
“And what if something happens here on the ship?” Trista asked, raising her head off the table. She looked miserable, her skin pale and eyes dull. The small act of moving seemed to be almost too much for her to handle. She placed a hand over her mouth for a moment before asking, “What would we do?”
“Barog is no fool. He’s trained his men well, both in keeping this ship afloat and defending it from those who’d try to stop it from doing so. He’d defend this ship with his own life, if I know him as well as I think I do. But, if something happens that is beyond even his ability to handle, you get this ship out of the docks and back on the water. We can figure something out, but don’t you dare wait for us. Isa, you’ll be my point of contact here. You keep your mind open. If anything happens, if anything changes, you let us know and we’ll do the same.”
“Of course,” she said.
“Dear, dear Samira. Never in all my time did I think I would ever hear you compliment me,” Barog grinned.
Samira rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, friend. It’s inflated enough as it is.”
Trista was sitting up, her gaze locked on Samira. She seemed to take notice, her head tilting slightly as she returned her expression. “Samira, if anything happens to him, I will personally gut you.”
“I’d love to see you try,” she replied, but there was no challenge in her tone. No joy. If anything, Samira would likely hand her the blade.
Barog cleared his throat. “We’re almost docked. Shall we see what’s going on in this lovely city before you head out on your suicide mission?”
“If only that were a possibility for me, love. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.” Samira rose from her seat and headed for the door, Barog on her heels.
“Damn it, Garild. You be careful. If anything goes wrong, you let us know,” Trista said, her words sharp. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with a bucket,” she groaned, rising from the table on unsteady legs. She staggered from the room, head bent, her breathing audible.
“Poor Trista,” Garild winced as he watched her leave. “No relief in sight for her. Bet she wishes she was getting off this ship.”
Isa sighed. “At least she’ll be safe here, which is more than I can say for you. Are you really sure about this? You could, I don’t know, tell her no.”
Garild couldn’t help himself and a laugh forced its way out of his throat. “Did I just hear ‘no’ and ‘Samira’ in the same breath?” Though she was smiling, she didn’t look quite as amused. He coughed and shifted his body towards her. “I don’t like this any more than you do. This feeling that Samira keeps having dragged her all the way across the ocean and we have no idea what we’re stepping into. And to top it all off, Kirheen might be involved and that does worry me. Listen, I promise to keep her in line. If I think we’re doing something entirely foolish, I’ll make her stop, and if she insists on treading where she shouldn’t, I won’t follow, not if it means getting hurt.”
Her gaze fell away, looking towards her small hands tangled in her lap, her fingers fidgeting with unease. He reached out tentatively, placed his hand on top of both of hers. He felt her freeze beneath his touch, her hands stopping their motion. “Isa. I’ll come back. I promi-”
“-Don’t promise. Don’t do that to me,” she gasped. “Another said those words and he didn’t come back.”
The words died in his throat, crushed by the woman next to him trying desperately not to cry. He could imagine the promises that had been made, the promises that had broken her heart, that kept breaking her heart every day. No, he wouldn’t do that to her. “I’m sorry, Isa,” he whispered. He gave her hand a final squeeze and rose from his seat. Her eyes did not follow. “I’ll be careful.” He wanted to reassure her, to feel her lips on his one more time before he went off to face the unknown, but that was a path he couldn’t travel. Not yet. He wouldn’t ignite that spark until he knew he would be alive to follow through, until he could be sure of his own feelings.
Turning away, he left Isa alone and tried to ignore the sound of her crying as he fled.
“Well, this looks interesting,” Samira grumbled. “Look at them all. Something has their feathers ruffled.”
Garild looked further down the docks where a large gathering was starting to take place. Diplomats, sailors, nobles and merchants swarmed like a hive of angry bees, their path blocked by a wall of people in expressionless masks. They all wore identical black robes, their shoulders squared and feet firmly planted. “Th
ose are Seekers, aren’t they?”
“Yes, and blocking entry into Val’shar, no less. And I’d really like to know why.”
“You could just stroll up and ask them,” Garild suggested. He immediately regretted his words as Samira shrugged her shoulders and sauntered off towards the crowd. He cursed, hurrying his steps to catch up to her. “I was not serious! Samira? Samira!”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance as she whipped her head towards him. “Just shut up and keep your head down. You’re my assistant. Act like it.”
“Damn it,” he muttered. He tried to still the anxiety creeping along his nerves as they crept closer to the Seekers. Everything he’d heard about them was terrible. They were executioners, murderers. If they had any redeeming qualities, he hadn’t heard of them yet.
Samira pushed her way through the crowd, earning her fair share of glares. She stopped just shy of the Seekers, her expression one of profound displeasure. “What is going on here? Why aren’t you letting people into the city?”
The nearest Seeker looked her over, then peered around her shoulder to look at Garild. “Val’shar is currently inaccessible to the public. Turn around, get back on your ship, and take these pests with you,” the Seeker spat, his gruff voice laced with venom.
“A most dissatisfying answer,” Samira frowned. “If you’re out in force, then something happened in Val’shar,” she said. For her next words, she raised her voice, catching the ears of those standing nearby. “What happened to the royal family?”
The Seeker growled as the words caused a wave of whispers to spread through the crowd. “Keep your damned voice down,” he said. With a tilt of his head, he motioned them further from the crowd.
The Allseer Trilogy Page 68
