Night Quest

by Susan Krinard

  Artemis shot to her feet. “Kronos! What are you doing here?”

  He took a seat on the chair and gazed at her as if he wanted to make sure that she was still in one piece. “I was taken when I approached the camp to learn more of the Master’s plans,” he said. “Apparently I was recognized by someone who remembered me as a leader of Freebloods and had heard of my philosophy.”

  “Pericles works for the Master,” she said.

  “So I have learned.”

  “You seem fully recovered from your injuries.”

  “I was fortunate—in that, at least,” Kronos said. “But I did not have the resources to fight when the Master’s soldiers came for me.” He smiled crookedly. “I was given the opportunity to attend the Master here in his dwelling, or...”

  “We were given the same choice,” Garret said, rising to stand beside Artemis. “The Master claims to want to speak to Artemis about your philosophy.”

  “There’s been chaos in his camp,” Artemis said. “Flavia and the others who abandoned you were trapped inside. We attempted to help them escape, but I do not know if we were successful.”

  “I saw Flavia fleeing the camp.” Kronos lowered his voice. “It seems the Master is having trouble managing the Freebloods he lured here. But he is far from powerless.” He glanced toward the door. “Under other circumstances I would be happy to speak to this Bloodlord and discover whether we share any common ground. Perhaps I might even have been able to persuade him to strike a more peaceful course.”

  “Not as long as the Master and his followers snatch innocent children from their homes,” Garret said. “Do you know why he wants them?”

  “Unfortunately, I doubt I know more than you. I assume it is still your desire to find them?”

  “Yes,” Garret said roughly. “If you have any ideas...”

  “I do,” Kronos said, addressing Artemis, “but first I have a confession to make.”

  “What confession?” she asked.

  “About your gift of empathy.”

  She experienced a sense of foreboding so strong that Garret felt it and pulled her hard against him. “It has seldom been a gift,” she said.

  “It was what led me to you when you were dying two centuries ago.”

  “Because my mind called for help.”

  “Your emotions called me, yes. But why was I the one who came to save you?” He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “I, too, am an empath, Artemis. I learned early to control it, for such sensitivities can only hamper any Opir who wishes to rise to power. But I sensed your dying, and I recognized in you one like myself.”

  For a moment Artemis was too stunned to speak. Kronos’s emotions were pouring into her now—not because she welcomed them, but because he was making her feel them. Pride, triumph, confidence, ambition. For the first time she could see his aura, a deep purple halo hovering around his head and shoulders.

  “You saved me because I am like you?” she said.

  “Because I knew that one day we could work together for the betterment of our people.”

  Artemis’s foreboding increased. “Does your empathy include the mental strength to affect others?” she asked.

  “It does.”

  “Blood of the Eldest,” she whispered, remembering what Flavia had asked her about Kronos’s abilities.

  “Pericles was under some kind of spell when you were injured and he came to find me. Was that you?”

  Kronos relaxed, as if he had no concern at all about what she might discover. “Yes. I found that it was easier to make him understand what he had to do.”

  Garret’s face was a grim mask. “Did you control Pericles when you two were in the same jail in Delos, so that he could convince Artemis to see you?”

  “I only encouraged him,” Kronos said.

  “But now he works for the Master,” Artemis said, “and he’s behaving just as strangely.”

  “I have no explanation for that.”

  Unless the Master has the same powers Kronos does, she thought. But the idea that she, Kronos and the Master should possess identical abilities was sheer madness.

  “What about Oceanus?” she asked. “You were always so skilled at persuading the Freebloods we attempted to recruit, but I assumed—” Her blood froze. “You asked me to help you understand the feelings of those who resisted our message.”

  “And so you did, unaware that you sometimes pushed beyond merely sensing into encouraging, as you did with Flavia when you convinced her that you took the animal blood.”

  “So all along I was pushing undecided Freebloods to obey you?”

  “You and I wanted the same thing. We were attempting to save our race.”

  “But you never told me. You never explained. And after you died...”

  “You shut out your talents, because you needed me to guide you.”

  “But you couldn’t keep Flavia and the others with you!”

  “Ah, Artemis. I lack the focused power of your gift. I can persuade, but not command. In this, I acknowledge you my superior.”

  “And now you want to use her again,” Garret said, his voice a growl.

  “What would you ask her to do in order to find your son?”

  “I was going to ask him to help me,” Artemis said.

  “By employing your bond to enhance your empathy?” Kronos asked. He stared at Garret. “You are not far along, are you? Still not one of us. Your loyalty is entirely to the humans.”

  “He is my vassal,” Artemis said, “but I do not control him. We work toward the same ends.”

  “Do you, Artemis?” Kronos held out his hands. “You wish to find his son. You wish to prevent a war, and lead Freebloods upon the right path, as we always did. If we can convince the Master—”

  “By compelling him?” Artemis said. “Whatever you say, I have no such power.”

  “I can help you now, as I did in Oceanus.” He smiled, and his aura lightened with something very much like joy. “Think of the good we can do here, my child. How many lives we might save.”

  “The children?”

  “So much more than that, Artemis. Neither one of us can wield the power the two of us can when our minds and emotions join as one.”

  As she had proposed to do with Garret, Artemis thought, though on a much smaller scale. The idea of joining with Kronos disgusted her. He had already used her without her knowledge, deceived her for two centuries.

  “I can see that the suggestion seems unpleasant to you,” Kronos said. “But when we combine our abilities, we can change the world to match our vision.”

  Change the world. But she knew that he meant something more than improving the lives of beleaguered Freebloods, saving the children, or even preventing another war. He had a grander vision.

  Grand, and terrible. But she could only feel it, not see the specifics. She had no idea what he planned.

  “How will you do this in the Master’s house?” she asked. “For all we know his guards may have heard everything you just said.”

  “All the more reason to hurry,” Kronos said. “We must act while we still—”

  “Forget it,” Garret said. He gently pushed Artemis behind him. “I never trusted you, and now you’re talking crazy. Artemis’s mind isn’t a toy for you to play with.”

  “And what if I can save your son?”

  “Not at that price,” Garret said, though his voice nearly broke. “We don’t need your help.”

  “Don’t you?” Kronos said to Artemis. “Will you let the children remain captives of the Master, their fates unknown, because you are unwilling to try what I suggest?”

  Fear washed through Artemis, quickly followed by anger. “I am prepared to try—but only for Timon’s sake.”

  “No,” Garret said.
He turned her to face him. “I can’t let you do it. I won’t. We’ll try it the way you suggested before. I’ll be your tree, Artemis. Whatever you need to do, I’ll give you everything I have.”

  “Artemis...” Kronos began.

  She gazed into Garret’s eyes. Their physical appearance was changing, but he was still Garret. Still strong-willed, courageous and resolutely set on protecting her.

  “I must,” she said softly. “I have to try, Garret, so that we can get the children out alive.”

  “And if Kronos is influencing you, even now?”

  “Have I touched your mind in any way?” Kronos challenged. “Do you feel any compulsion?”

  “No.” Artemis laid her hands on Garret’s arms. “Only for the children,” she said.

  Garret tried to dissuade her, not with words, but with the force of his emotions: his distrust, even hatred for Kronos; his driving concern for her; his certainty that Kronos’s plan would end in disaster.

  But through it all she could read his fear for his son and the other children, fear he couldn’t conceal.

  “Artemis,” he said. “If you do this—”

  The door opened, and Pericles entered with two of the guards.

  “Kronos,” he said, “the Master will see you now.”

  Kronos rose. “I am glad you are well,” he said to Artemis. “I hope to see you again soon.”

  Shaking with anger, Garret turned to Artemis as the others left. “Kronos doesn’t care about the children,” he said. “He only wants a way into your mind, and then—”

  “Garret,” she whispered.

  He turned toward the door. Pericles was still there, though his face remained as blank as it had been ever since Artemis had met him again.

  “The Master inquires again if there is anything you need.”

  “Pericles,” Artemis said, approaching him cautiously, “how did you come to serve the Master? You were with Kronos before. What changed? Or did you always work for the Master, even when you saved Beth and we took her all the way to Delos?”

  “I don’t understand,” Pericles said, stepping toward her.

  “Were you spying on us? Is that how the Master knew about me and Kronos?”

  Expressionless, Pericles turned to leave. Artemis saw Garret near the door, opening it a tiny crack to check the hall outside.

  “I don’t think you are a spy,” Artemis said quickly, snatching at Pericles’s arm. “Something’s wrong. Let me help you.”

  Pericles flinched as if her hand had burned him, and she felt the first real stirrings of alarm.

  “Look at me, Pericles,” she said.

  His clouded gaze met hers. Sharp pain sliced into her skull.

  And she knew what she had to do.

  Chapter 23

  Artemis closed her eyes and, keeping a firm grip on Pericles, concentrated on all the things she had learned about him and admired when they had first met: his bravery, his willingness to change his way of life, his determination to defy his own people for the sake of a human child.

  Then she looked for the invader in his mind. And found him, part of him, intertwined with the feelings that made Pericles what he was, corrupting them like spreading rot in a healthy grove.

  Knowing that she had to work quickly, she tried to construct an image that would help her do what was necessary. She imagined the negative influence as a black thread entangled with a golden one, woven so tightly that only the greatest skill could pick the strands apart. She wove her own emotions into a third strand—crystalline blue—and searched for a weak place in the skein.

  When she found it, she forced her thread between the other two, pouring her own emotions into it, all the compassion, trust—and love—that Garret had brought into her life.

  Pericles moaned. His terror engulfed her. Her legs gave way, and she dragged him down with her. She lost all sense of herself as a separate being. Even breathing was agony. The black strand began to burn and shrivel.

  She collapsed. When her vision cleared, Garret was crouched over her, and Pericles lay on the floor beside her. He opened his eyes. They were filled with bewilderment, but they were clear. He was himself again.

  “Artemis,” Garret said, supporting her head in his hands. “What in God’s name did you do?”

  “It’s all right,” she said, rubbing her temples.

  Pericles sat up. “What hap—” he began. “Kronos.” He covered his face with his hands. “He got inside my head.”

  “You freed him?” Garret asked Artemis.

  “Yes,” she said. But if Pericles has been working for the Master...

  “Whose commands are you obeying now?” Garret asked Pericles, as if he’d heard her thoughts.

  Pericles moved his head slowly from side to side, as if he wasn’t sure that it belonged to him. “I don’t know,” he said. “But...” He looked toward the door.

  “The guards aren’t near the door,” Garret said, suspicion rolling off him like waves of heat. “If they’re listening, they’re using a device, not their ears.”

  “What were you about to say, Pericles?” Artemis asked.

  “I...think Kronos is working for the Master.”

  “Working for him?” Garret said. “How?”

  “I don’t know,” Pericles moaned. “It’s all mixed up inside my head.”

  “If Kronos is already involved with the Master,” Garret said, “he’s been deceiving us since you first met him at Delos.” He looked at Artemis. “He wanted you here with him, and my search for Timon was only a convenient means of achieving his goal.”

  “But he can’t support what the Master is planning,” Artemis protested, nearly choking on the denial. “The idea of another war...”

  “How can you know what’s really in his mind?” Garret asked. “He can obviously hide his true feelings. He said he needs your help to influence the Master in some way. Is that really what he wants?” Garret forced her to look at him. “Why would he work for the Master in the first place, Artemis?”

  “It’s a trick,” she said. “He heard of the Master’s plans, offered his services to learn more...” She heard the pleading note in her own voice and tried to calm herself. “Even if he lied to us, he must have come to realize the Master was wrong. That’s why he wants my help.”

  “He ‘encouraged’ Freebloods in the Citadel. He manipulated you. He made Pericles into a slave.” Garret grimaced. “Do you remember what he said, Artemis? He said he learned to control his abilities because they would only hamper an Opir who wanted to rise to power. Isn’t that what he’s really wanted all along? Power? If he thinks he can get it through the Master...”

  A grander vision, Artemis had thought when Kronos had spoken of changing the world.

  Did he think he could destroy the Master, inherit his Freebloods and take command of a ready-made base of operations...all to establish the new way of life he had fought and nearly died for in Oceanus?

  “Until I see proof,” she said, “I cannot condemn him.”

  “Then be prepared to act quickly when you change your mind,” Garret said.

  They stared at each other, neither willing to look away first.

  “Artemis?” Pericles said faintly. “Do you still want to save Timon?”

  “Do you know where he is?” Garret asked, leaning over the young Freeblood.

  “I...think...” With Artemis’s help, Pericles got to his feet. “I think I remember seeing the place, but I’m not sure how to get there.”

  Garret sprang up and ran to the door. “The guards are still gone,” he said. “It must be some kind of trap.” He returned to Pericles. “If you’re lying...”

  “I don’t sense the guards anywhere nearby,” Artemis said.

  “Are they so confident that we can’t es
cape?” Garret asked. “I saw that kind of arrogance in Erebus, when I worked for the Underground. But we can’t count on it.”

  “If the Master means to kill us, will it matter if we remain in this room or search for the children?” Artemis asked.

  “Pericles, will you show me what you do remember?” Garret asked.

  “I’ll try,” Pericles said, meeting Garret’s gaze.

  “I want you to stay here, Artemis,” Garret said. “If you find a way to escape, I want you to—”

  “This is becoming tedious,” Artemis said with a weary smile. “I will not remain behind, and you cannot compel me to. In fact, I could compel you, if I wished.” Her smile faded. “We will go together.”

  “I had to try,” Garret conceded with a look that made her feel hot and cold at the same time.

  “Where do we start?” she asked Pericles.

  Pericles looked around the room. “There are dozens of small chambers all through the castle,” he said, “and just as many halls and corridors. If I could just figure out where we are...”

  Artemis opened her memory, seeking the emotional imprint of Timon that Garret had left in her mind. The laughing, softly rounded face appeared to her inner vision, reverberating with all the love and devotion Garret felt for his son.

  “I feel you,” Garret whispered. He covered his eyes with his hand. “And I think I... I think I feel Timon.”

  She gripped his wrists. “Calm,” she said.

  “He’s afraid,” Garret said hoarsely. “My son. And all the others...so afraid.”

  Artemis closed her eyes. She caught the echo of what he was experiencing, the pain of feeling the suffering of the helpless and not being able to do anything about it. The sickness of losing himself in the emotions of others. Of his own son.

  If she let herself, she would be caught in the same trap. One of them had to remain clearheaded for the sake of those same children.

  “It’s all right,” she said, rubbing his arm. “I did not know this would happen when I converted you. Perhaps I should have guessed.”

  Garret uncovered his face. “What has happened to me?”

  “When I passed on the substance that provokes the change, I think I...also gave you a little of my ability. I am sorry.”