by Carol A Park
Vaughn turned back. “What?”
“We’ve been keeping tabs on that bloodbane abomination the Conclave has with this army.”
“Yes, I know.”
“It’s not with the main army anymore.”
The brisk efficiency and confidence that had characterized Vaughn’s feelings toward this matter evaporated, and his stomach dropped into his toes.
“Maybe there’s another explanation,” Yaotel went on, “but you’d better be prepared for the possibility that they sent it with the unit headed toward you.”
Two thousand men was one thing. Two thousand men with a corpse-thing? That was an entirely different matter. “Do you know how many bloodbane this thing can control?”
“Last count we had, there were over a thousand of various sorts swarming around the forest, and that number was growing.”
Burning skies.
“Vaughn, you’ve got to keep them from taking back control,” Yaotel said. “You go down here before we even get to your little election…”
Vaughn swallowed. “Yes. I know. I don’t suppose you can offer any assistance yet?”
There was a long silence, and then: “If it’s true that we no longer have to contend with a possible massive bloodbane attack against Marakyn…” A sigh. “I’ll send a few healers and I’ll ask Tanuac if he can spare some troops to help secure the area—assuming you can hold them off for a few days.” A wry tone entered Yaotel’s voice. “And assuming your mother approves.”
Vaughn grunted. At this point, he didn’t care what his mother approved of. He was more concerned with surviving long enough for Tanuac’s assistance—which would be too late to help with the initial defense—to do any good. “She’ll be fine with it. Appreciated.”
The qixli stopped glowing. Vaughn put it down and looked around at the remaining faces in the room with him: Thrax, Danton, and Aleena.
Thrax leaned forward. “Vaughn, we’ve barely been here a week,” he said. “Maybe you get this commander your mother has on your side, but what about the men? Will they be willing to fight for you?”
“Fortunately, they aren’t fighting for me. They’re fighting to defend their home.”
“Against an army that’s coming because you showed up,” Thrax pointed out.
There was that, but the Conclave didn’t have to send an army. Other than existing, Vaughn wasn’t doing anything illegal. “Anyone who’s been paying attention knows what my becoming Ri would mean for Ferehar,” Vaughn said. “In fact, many are counting on it.”
Fereharians felt less Setanan than Donians did. The promise that Vaughn would break them away from the Empire might be enough on its own to overcome reflex prejudice. At least all signs from initial meetings pointed that way.
Now he had to prove he could defend it.
“And what are you going to tell them?” Thrax asked.
“That Setana has turned on us and we intend to take back our country; we can rely on anyone who rallies to that call.” He cracked his neck. What a way to start this. “Danton,” he barked, and Danton sat up, startled.
“How’s your zip-zap thing going?” Vaughn asked.
Danton scratched his chin. “I transported myself a full mile the other day without too much trouble, and I can now make multiple hops in a row with only a short rest between. I think I could do more, but I’m trying to increase it incrementally so I don’t accidentally kill myself doing too much.”
Good enough. “Smart plan. Now would be an especially bad time to accidentally kill yourself.” He flashed a forced smile at Danton. “I’m going to need you to keep an eye on the road and surrounding area as the army gets closer. I want to have as much warning as possible. For now, take a look at the city defenses and let me know if you see anything that needs repair.” Walls alone wouldn’t keep out bloodbane because some of them could fly—or climb. But it was a start.
Vaughn turned to Thrax, who was already sitting up, his eyebrow cocked, awaiting his own orders. “Thrax, I want you to liaison with this commander my mother has for us. You were at Gan Barton’s estate when only a fraction of this number of bloodbane attacked us.” And Vaughn was certain they had won only because Ivana had killed that corpse-thing controlling them. “Make sure he understands what we’re dealing with and that we need to think beyond the walls in our defense strategy. In addition, make sure he knows your and Danton’s skillsets and plans to use them to full advantage.” Damn, he wished he had a beastblood. “For now, go with Danton. I’ll send for you when my mother returns.”
Thrax gave him a lazy salute, and he and Danton left together.
Aleena was now the only person left in the room with him, and she was watching him with her piercing eyes, all pretenses at fingernail-cleaning set aside.
“All right,” he said. “You win.” He unclipped the second key from the chain around his neck. “Go get Ivana and bring her to me here.” They would need her, for multiple reasons.
Aleena stood up and held out her hand for the key.
He hesitated. “I can trust you to do this, right?”
“I know how important this is, Vaughn,” Aleena said. “And she will too.”
He wasn’t sure about that, but he gave her the key anyway.
It was hard to judge time without the sun, but Ivana determined by meals that it had only been about a week when her cell door opened again.
She didn’t bother trying to burn aether, partially because she was curious to see who it was and why they had come earlier than expected, and partially because, after a week alone with her thoughts in the dismal chamber, she was mentally and emotionally drained. She just didn’t care. Where would she even go, what would she do, if she ran?
It turned out to be Aleena.
She didn’t move into the room. Rather, she stood in the doorway, holding the door open. “You’re being released,” she said.
Ivana stood and stretched. Her body felt as though it had been curled into a ball for weeks. “Already?”
Aleena flashed her a grim look that made Ivana uneasy. “You’re needed enough to take the chance, I guess.”
That wasn’t in any way ominous.
“I’m supposed to take you to Vaughn.” She hesitated. “I told him you’d come.”
Ivana shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Fine.” She followed Aleena back to the central dungeon chamber, up the stairs, and then through the halls of the palace, past the audience hall, past the ballroom and grand dining room, and into the area where the real business of running Ferehar took place.
They stopped at Gildas’ office, and Aleena knocked.
“Come,” Vaughn said, his voice muffled by the door.
Aleena opened the door for Ivana, and she stepped inside.
Vaughn was sitting behind a massive desk, the side of his head resting in the palm of one hand while he scribbled on a piece of paper.
“Ivana’s here,” Aleena said.
He didn’t look up. “Thank you, Aleena.”
It was obviously a dismissal, but Aleena hesitated. She glanced at Ivana, and Ivana jerked her head at her, and then rolled her eyes up slightly. Aleena, no doubt understanding that she wasn’t to go far, nodded and left.
It came as a sudden revelation how much of a partnership she and Aleena had formed. She had always been Ivana’s right hand, but now, she was a trusted ally and friend.
No doubt Ivana would find some way to screw up that relationship as well.
“I see you’ve settled into your not-quite-official role already,” she said, taking in the well-appointed room.
Vaughn pressed his lips together. “I thought about having Aleena bring you to the audience chamber in an attempt to intimidate you,” he said, still writing. “But then on second thought, I realized that probably wouldn’t work, and…” He put the pen down and passed his hand over his face. “Frankly, I’m not in the mood for games.”
He looked up, but at something over her shoulder. His face was grim and pale.
“Aleen
a said you had something important you needed to see me about,” she said.
He looked back down at the note he had been writing. “Yes. I’m releasing you because there have been some changes in our circumstances.”
“Changes in our circumstances?”
He drummed his fingers against the desk and stood up. Walking around it, he leaned against it to stand in front of her, though he still didn’t meet her eyes. “There’s a unit from the United Setanan on its way to Cohoxta, two thousand strong. We estimate it’ll be here in a week or a little more.”
No wonder he looked so anxious and tired. He had few real resources right now. He wasn’t Ri yet; he was relying on his mother to do what he wanted until he was official.
He’d have been better off if he had brought his own army with him.
Even so, two thousand men? Surely, they had enough Watchmen and militia to deal with that threat.
Vaughn was staring at the ground, and he roused himself to speak again. “It’s possible they have the corpse-thing with them.”
Oh. Oh. “Damn,” she said softly.
“Askata is calling in the reserves, Thrax is going to be working with our new defense commander, and Danton is surveying what defenses we have. Given both your training and your magical talents…your aid would be invaluable.” He looked directly at her at last. “I’m begging you to help us, just this one last time, even though I think it’s clear you are going to do whatever you want, regardless of what I do, or don’t do, or would wish you to do.”
The final words were laced with bitterness. And they hurt, because she couldn’t protest that they weren’t true—that he had misjudged the quality of her character.
There was silence. Neither of them broke the gaze. The moment stretched into several moments, and it seemed to Ivana that her own fatigue increased considerably in those few heartbeats.
What did he want her to say? That she was sorry?
She was. She regretted her decision to steal that key with every fiber of her being. She felt it like a rot eating at the corners of her emptiness. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
But the words wouldn’t come. Apologizing was admitting one more failure, one more mistake, one more black mark on her record.
Whatever hope she had had of starting over, whatever they had shared—she had ruined it.
“I came here to help you,” she said, breaking the gaze. “That hasn’t changed. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“As soon as I know, I will.”
There was another long silence.
She swallowed. “If there’s nothing else right now…can I go back to my room? My normal room, that is?” she asked. She desperately wanted a bath, and a change of clothes, and to sleep in a comfortable bed again.
He passed a hand over his eyes, and then rubbed at his chin. He started to say something, and then stopped. “There is something else, if you’ll stay another moment.”
He walked over to the sitting area, sat down in one of the armchairs, and then gestured for her to sit across from him.
She did, tentatively.
He leaned forward and clasped his hands together.
Ivana waited.
“Look, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to have this conversation. This isn’t my strong suit. But I can’t… I don’t want this hanging over my head, with everything else. So I have to know. Was any of it real? Or was that night all one big con to you?”
She blinked and stared at him. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.” He looked up at her. “I’ve tried to explain it in my head in a thousand ways and it’s the story I keep returning to.”
She could hardly blame him. She was perfectly capable of doing what he suggested, in theory—though she didn’t think she was that good. She herself had even told Aleena that he’d been stupid for trusting her.
Yet it still hurt.
Why had she allowed him so close to her that this hurt? As if she needed more sources of pain in her life.
“There was no con,” she said. “I happened to wake up, and I saw the key lying there. It was just too easy.”
“Easy?” He shook his head. “No, Ivana. ‘Easy’ would have been when we first came to the palace, and he was out in the open. ‘Easy’ would have been not having to figure out how to break into the dungeon.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “You gave up the ‘easy’ option, only to—” He broke off.
His voice had lost its measured tone and was now tight—with anger, hurt, betrayal? She didn’t even know.
Her own throat tightened, and she clenched her hands together in her lap. “You asked me a question, and I told you the truth. Whether you choose to believe me is your business. I certainly wouldn’t blame you if you don’t. And I certainly wouldn’t blame you if you hate me now.” She stood up, ready for that to be the end of the conversation.
He gave a half-laugh. “Hate you? If I could hate you, this would be much easier to deal with.” He gripped his knees. “I just want to understand.”
How could she ever make him understand the panic, the revulsion, the rage—the way She had come to the rescue at exactly the wrong time?
Ivana could have left it at what she’d already said. But his face was drawn, his eyes searching hers for some other answer—and she had enough regard for him that she didn’t want to leave him with yet another burden to bear.
“You want to understand?” she asked, her voice tight. “Then understand this: I hate him almost as much as I hate myself. So when I woke from a nightmare that involved him—” She would not, could not tell him the details. He was smart enough to figure it out. “I was distraught.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “You of all people should know what that looks like.” Her fingernails were digging into her palm. “I saw the key, all I could think about was revenge, and she was more than happy to take over.”
She met his eyes. “I swear to you that every moment of that night up until then was real to me.” Every touch, every kiss, every caress—
Gone, just like that fleeting ray of hope.
A moment of clarity came to her. She had thought there was nothing left of the person she had been before all of this had started, but she’d been wrong. Without her, she was just as much of a screw-up as she’d ever been.
She drew in a sharp breath. She was going to cry. She was barely holding it in, and she didn’t want to be here in front of him anymore. “Are we done?”
His eyebrows were knit together as he studied her face. “I told my mother you were away on personal business. You can say the same if anyone asks.”
She had no words left, so she nodded tightly…and fled.
Vaughn sat in the armchair, unmoving, for longer than he should have when there was so much to be done.
“I hate him almost as much as I hate myself.” Present tense.
He had always wondered what went on in that mind of hers.
He stared down at his hands. He didn’t know if it made him feel better or worse to know that their night together had been genuine for both of them, not just him.
Yes, he had seen her break down before. He could understand now what might have transpired.
Why hadn’t she woken him?
But he also knew that. She may have given him her body, but that was where it ended, wasn’t it? She had never willingly let down that barrier into the deepest parts of herself.
He could still see the blood dripping off her dagger in Lord Kadmon’s bedroom, hear her laugh bubble up in a rare moment of shared friendship, feel her tears dripping on his arm as he’d held her in the abyss, and the warmth of her skin as she’d moved against him in the night.
She was, in so many ways, more raw than he had ever known her to be, and at the same time, even more closed off to him—because she never told him what spawned these decisions, what she felt inside that made her act in such drastic ways.
Could their already shaky friendship recover from this?
Could he even trust her to be reliable anymore? Unfortunately, there was no time to find out either answer right now. He had something more urgent to deal with than his personal problems.
There was a knock on the office door. “Come,” he said.
Danton peeked his head in the room. “I’m back. Do you want to hear my report?”
Not really. He stood up. “Let’s have it.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
A Dangerous Game
“Dal Driskell,” a man’s voice said. “Commander Gered wants to see you.”
Driskell slid the knife he’d been sharpening back into the sheath at his waist. He didn’t know why he bothered. He wouldn’t know how to use it if the time came. But Gered had told him to choose a weapon, and he’d figured a knife would be more generally useful to have on him than a sword or club if he escaped.
Driskell followed the man who had spoken, one of Gered’s personal guards named Paran. Driskell had made sure to burn extra aether when interacting with any of the soldiers Gered kept close, and Paran was no exception.
Indeed, he was already burning the aether in his blood to enhance himself. Even with the strides he’d made since the sky-fire—especially since being dragged along with this army—he still wished he were better at it. Given the way Gered had come to trust him for no logical reason at all, he had a feeling he could have the entire unit dancing to his tune if he really knew what he was doing.
They were within half a day’s march from Cohoxta and had settled into a deserted stretch of woods, ostensibly to rest. In reality, it was so the abomination could collect and organize all the bloodbane it had been gathering in one place.
They had left behind the most common bloodbane that it had already gathered near Marakyn—letting them scatter where they would—but there were many that it had kept control of, and those had trailed behind the army the entire way. In addition, it had begun calling more bloodbane from the pass, the mountains, the forests, as they marched.
Now, any bloodbane that had been tailing them—and more—had started to flow into their camp.
